KSS5Si»S!iS«S»^\^S  s 


tihvaxy  of  t1>e  trheolo^icd  ^tmimvy 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 


•«^i> 


PRESENTED  BY 

The  Estate  of 
Victor  E.  Lukens 


BR  85  .P4  1898  ^ 

Pearse,  Mark  Guy,  1842-1930. 
The  gentleness  of  Jesus      I 


THE    GENTLENESS  i 

OF   JESUS  ,,^.5  T-:r-^ 

i  ,  MAR  23  1953 


BY 


a/ 
MARK   GUY   PEARSE 


NEW  YORK :    46  East  14TH  Street 

THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  &   COMPANY 

BOSTON  :   100  Purchase  Street 


Copyright,  1898, 
By  T.  Y.  CROWELL  &  COMPANY. 


Norfaooli  ^rcs8 

J.  S.  CuBhing  k  Co.  -  Berwick  &  Smith 
Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


CONTENTS. 


I. 

PAGE 

The  Gentleness  of  Jesus i 

"A  bruised  reed  shall  He  not  break,  and  smoking  Jlax 
shall  He  not  quench,  till  He  se7id  forth  judgment  unto  vic- 
tory."—Si\,  Piatt,  xii.  20. 

n. 

The  Vision  of  Goodness      .        .        .  ^     .        .      i"? 

"There  be  many  who  say,  IVho  will  shew  us  any  good ? 
Lord,  lift  Thou  up  the  light  of  Thy  countenance  upon  us."  — 
^salm  iv.  6. 

III. 

Is   NOT   THIS   THE   CARPENTER?  ....        24 

*'Is  not  this  the  carpenter?"  —  St.  fHarft  vi.  3. 


IV. 

The  Queen  of  Sheba 36 

"The  qtieen  of  the  south  shall  rise  up  in  the  judgment  with 

this  generatiott  and  shall  condemn  it  :  for  she  came  from  the 

■^      uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  to  hear  the  wisdojn  of  Solomoft  ; 

and,  behold,  a  greater  than  Solomon  is  here." — St.  fHatt. 

xii.  42. 

iii 


iv  CONTENTS. 

V. 

PAGE 

Nobody,  —  Somebody,  —  Everybody    ...      57 

"  She  was  not  hid."  —  St.  ILukt  viii.  47. 

VI. 
The  Doubt  of  Thomas 66 

*^Bnt  Thomas,  one  0/  the  twelve,  called  Didynius,  was  not 
with  thejH  ivhen  jfesics  came. 

"  The  other  disciples  therefore  said  unto  hivi,  IVe  have  seen 
the  Lord.  But  he  said  unto  thevi,  Except  I  shall  see  in  His 
hands  the  print  of  the  71  ails,  a7id  put  tny  finger  into  the  print 
of  the  nails,  and  thrust  iny  hand  into  His  side,  I  will  not 
believe. 

"And  after  eight  days  again  His  disciples  were  within, 
and  Tho7Jias  with  the77i  :  then  ca77ie  fesus,  the  doors  bei7ig 
shut,  and  stood  in  the  tnidst,  a7id  said,  Peace  be  utito  you. 

'*The7i  saith  He  to  Tho7)tas,  Reach  hither  thy  fi7tger,  and 
behold  My  ha7ids  ;  a7td  reach  hither  thy  ha7id,  a7id  thrust  it 
into  My  side  ;  mind  be  7iot  faithless,  but  believi7ig. 

"And  Tho7>tas  ajiszvered  a7id  said  7c7tto  Hi/7t,  My  Lord 
a7id  771  y  God. 

"y'es7is  saith  u7ito  hi7/i,  Tho7/ias,  becatise  thou  hast  seen 
Me,  tho7i  hast  believed :  blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen, 
a7td yet  have  believed."  —  S't.  SoJjn  xx.  24-29. 


VII. 
Christ  Sanctifying  Himself       ....      78 

"  For  their  sakes  I  sanctify  Myself  that  they  also  tnight  be 
sanctified  through  the  truth."  —  Sii.  SofjlX  xvii.  19. 

VIII. 
The  Story  of  a  Royal  Procession   ...      91 

"A7td  jfesus  e7itered  a7id  passed  through  Jericho."  —  5>t. 
ILukc  xix.  I. 


CONTENTS.  V 

IX. 

PAGE 

The  Saints  of  Cesar's  Household    .        .        .112 

"  All  the  saints  salute  you,  chiejly  they  that  are  of  Ccesars 
household."  —  ^Ijilippians  iv.  22. 

X. 

The  Little  Children 125 

''The  little  children."  —  S:i.  ilSarft  x.  14. 


XL 
A  Call  to  Communion 137 

"  Jesus  saith  unto  them.  Come  and  break  yotir fast." —  St. 
SoJjn  xxi.  12. 


XIL 
The  True  Beauty 147 

"  Let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  be  upon  us."  —  ^salm 
xc.  17. 


XIIL 
The  Vision  of  Isaiah 167 

"  Whom  shall  I  send  ?  or  who  %vill  go  for  us  ?" —  3iSa(a^ 
vi.  8. 

XIV. 

The  New  Weapon 178 

''And  he  being  girded  with  a  new  sword,  thojtght  to  have 
tlain  David."  —  2  5'amucl  xxi.  i6. 


Vi  CONTENTS. 

XV. 

PAGE 

The  Story  of  Gideon ,     iS;? 

"  The  Lord  is  with  thee,  thou  mighty  man  of  valour."  — 
Suligrs  vi,  12. 

XVI. 
The  Daily  Bread 225 

"  Give  us  this  day  ojir  daily  bread."  —  Sii.  ijfilatt.  vi.  ii 

XVII. 
With  both  Hands 239 

"  With  both  hands  earnestly."  —  fHicaf)  vii.  3. 


I. 


THE   GENTLENESS   OF   JESUS. 

"A  bruised  reed  shall  He  not  break,  and  smoking  flax  shall 
He  not  quench,  till  He  send  forth  judgment  unto  victory."  — 
St.  Matt.  xii.  20. 

The  words  must  be  taken  in  connection  with 
their  context.  They  set  forth  with  exquisite 
imagery  the  gentleness  of  Jesus ;  but  it  is,  in 
the  first  place  at  any  rate,  not  the  gentleness 
which  stoops  to  take  up  the  bruised  reed  and 
make  it  whole  again.  The  words  occur  in  the 
very  midst  of  the  controversy  with  the  Phari- 
sees. He  and  His  disciples  had  gone  through 
the  cornfields  on  the  Sabbath  day ;  they  were 
hungry,  and  as  they  went  they  plucked  the  ears 
of  corn  and  eat  them.  The  Scribes  and  Phari- 
sees came  murmuring  that  He  had  blasphemed 
the  Sabbath.  He  silenced  them  instantly  and 
defended  His  disciples  from  their  murmurings. 
But  there  He  stopped.  He  did  not  push  His 
advantage,  but  withdrew.  He  left  them  to  go 
forth  to  take  counsel   against   Him,  and  went 

B  I 


2  THE    GENTLENESS   OF  JESUS. 

with  His  disciples  away  in  the  quiet  parts  of 
Galilee.  He  would  have  no  wordy  tumults  with 
them.  He  did  not  strive  nor  cry,  neither  did 
He  lift  up  His  voice  in  the  streets.  He  carefully 
guarded  His  miracles  from  becoming  the  sub- 
ject of  any  public  tumult.  In  every  way  He  who 
could  so  easily  silence  His  opponents,  He  who 
could  by  a  glance  have  destroyed  His  enemies, 
carefully  avoided  all  controversy  and  conflict. 

This  then  is  the  meaning  of  the  words,  "The 
bruised  reed  shall  He  not  break,  the  smoking 
flax  shall  He  not  quench,  till  He  send  forth 
judgment  unto  victory."  He  would  not  put 
forth  His  power  against  His  foes.  This  was 
the  method  of  His  life.  This  was  the  way  in 
which  He  should  conquer  the  world ;  not  by 
strife  nor  cry,  but  by  an  infinite  and  unfailing 
gentleness.     Look  at  it  all  along  His  life. 

If  He  would  uplift  the  world,  the  first  thing 
is  to  make  life  sacred,  the  very  beginning  of 
it.  Infanticide  was  scarcely  a  crime  at  His 
coming  anywhere  but  in  Palestine,  and  even 
there  without  any  ado  or  great  horror,  Herod, 
to  quiet  his  uneasy  fear,  can  send  out  his  sol- 
diers and  slay  all  the  young  children  through 
the  coasts.  Here,  then,  is  the  problem,  —  How 
shall  He  make  childhood  sacred }  How  uplift 
and  hallow  the  world's  opinion  of  the  little  child } 


THE    GENTLENESS   OF  JESUS.  3 

How  bring  all  the  world's  tenderness  and  pity 
about  the  babe,  and  gather  all  the  world's  might 
for  the  protection  of  the  little  one  ?  Shall  He 
go  forth  and  tell  with  sweet  words  of  their 
charms,  a  champion  of  their  claims  ?  Shall  He 
go  forth  with  fiery  indignation  against  their 
wrongs  and  hurl  angry  threats  at  all  that  de- 
graded and  dishonored  them  ?  Come  and  see 
how  it  is  done.  He  Himself  comes  as  the  lit- 
tle Babe  of  Bethlehem,  wrapped  in  swaddling 
clothes,  and  laid  in  a  manger.  Controversy, 
conflict,  terror,  destruction,  —  where  are  they  } 
He  cannot  break  a  bruised  reed.  He  cannot 
quench  a  smoking  flax,  He  who  lies  as  the 
Babe  upon  the  mother's  bosom.  Thus  He  up- 
lifted and  hallowed  the  little  child  and  made 
it  a  thing  almost  divine,  —  of  such  is  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven.  Thus  He  made  motherhood 
sacred,  and  left  it  the  mightiest  power  to  soften 
and  ennoble  men  in  all  the  world. 

Look  at  the  thirty  years  as  the  lowly  car- 
penter at  Nazareth.  His  voice  is  not  heard, 
He  does  not  strive  nor  cry.  And  this  is  the 
next  great  want  of  the  world,  —  to  declare  the 
sacredness  of  humanity  apart  from  the  clothes 
it  wears  and  the  house  it  lives  in.  Wanted  a 
force  that  shall  make  man  everywhere  a  creature 
dignified  and  ennobled.     At  Christ's  coming  in 


4  THE    GENTLENESS   OF  JESUS. 

every  nation  but  Palestine  the  working-man  was 
a  slave,  denied  the  common  rights  of  humanity. 
Now  what  shall  the  Saviour  do  ?  Shall  He 
strive  and  cry  ?  Shall  He  utter  fierce  denun- 
ciations, and  make  glowing  orations  and  sub- 
lime poems  about  liberty  ?  Do  not  think  for 
one  moment  that  I  speak  lightly  of  all  this. 
God  forbid.  Thank  God  that  there  is  a  power 
in  the  word  of  orator  and  poet.  And  none 
ever  spake  sublimer  things  of  our  mankind  than 
did  Jesus  Christ.  But  He  did  not  win  His  ends 
as  an  orator.  He  did  not  achieve  His  victory 
as  a  poet.  What  then  .-*  Shall  force  become 
our  remedy }  Shall  He  bid  men  arm  and  strike 
for  freedom,  and  shall  He  lead  them  forth  to 
liberty  t  Shall  He  march  and  threaten  with 
sword  until  the  reluctant  tyrant  yields  to  fear  .-* 
He  shall  not  strive  7ior  cry.  The  roll  of  drums 
and  flutter  of  flags  and  shout  of  battle  and 
fierceness  of  opposing  forces  is  not  that  of 
which  He  will  avail  Himself.  He  will  live  as 
the  Carpenter.  The  little  carpenter's  shop  with 
the  rough  beams  above  and  the  chips  and  shav- 
ings littering  the  floor  and  the  sunshine  slant- 
ing through  the  dusty  air  —  He  will  make  this 
the  Father's  House.  And  He  bending  in  the 
sweat  of  His  brow,  toiling  with  chisel,  saw, 
and  plane,  will  make  the  commonest  work  as 


THE   GENTLENESS   OF  JESUS.  5 

much  the  service  of  God  as  that  which  the 
angels  render  before  the  throne. 

This  was  ever  His  method.  It  runs  through 
all  His  life-work.  Thus  He  would  teach  that 
men  were  all  alike  dear  to  God.  At  His  coming 
it  was  a  thought  that  had  never  entered  the 
mind  of  either  Jew  or  Greek  or  Roman.  The 
Jew  was  the  favorite  of  Heaven,  the  rest  of 
the  world  were  hopeless  heathen;  the  Greek 
was  the  cultured  philosopher,  the  rest  of  the 
world  were  barbarians ;  the  Roman  was  the 
conqueror  of  the  world,  everybody  else  was  an 
inferior  creature  incapable  of  sharing  his  privi- 
leges or  dignity.  How  shall  all  this  be  swept 
away }  Shall  He  lift  up  His  voice  against  it  in 
oration,  sermon,  poem,  discourse,  controversy } 
Shall  He  smite  and  break,  that  He  may  force 
upon  the  reluctant  world  the  truth  of  brother- 
hood }  Nay,  He  will  Himself  become  the 
Brother-Man.  He  will  sit  at  meat  with  publi- 
cans and  sinners.  He  will  make  as  much  of  a 
publican  as  of  a  Pharisee,  and  welcome  a  sinner 
as  gladly  as  a  Scribe.  He  will  go  home  to 
dinner  with  Zacchaeus,  and  talk  with  a  Samari- 
tan woman  at  the  well,  and  stay  to  heal  a  poor 
heathen  woman's  daughter. 

So  would  He  win  His  victory.  He  would 
not  avail  Himself  of  the  eager  patriotism  of  His 


6  THE    GENTLENESS   OF  JESUS. 

nation,  that  would  take  Him  and  make  Him  by 
force  a  king.  Never  would  He  put  forth  His 
almighty  power  to  smite  His  enemies.  Once, 
indignant  that  the  Samaritans  had  refused  Him 
their  hospitality,  John's  love  kindled  to  a  blaze, 
and  he  begged  that  fire  from  Heaven  might  fall 
and  avenge  the  insult.  But  the  Master  rebuked 
His  disciple  gently,  **  Ye  know  not  what  spirit 
ye  are  of."  And  when  Peter  would  have  fought 
for  his  Lord  with  the  sword,  he  is  bidden  to  put 
it  up.  He  is  come  not  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil. 
And  it  is  true  always  as  it  was  true  then. 
No  force  can  ever  help  Christianity,  but  the 
force  of  the  living  love,  the  Christlike  presence. 
The  only  authority  it  knows  is  the  authority  of 
love.  Whatever  has  tried  to  enforce  Christian- 
ity has  always  destroyed  it.  Fines,  imprison- 
ments, the  stock,  and  the  pillory,  slitting  noses, 
and  cropping  ears,  the  dungeon  and  the  stake, 
have  been  the  methods  by  which  men  have  tried 
to  teach  the  beauty  and  blessedness  of  Christ's 
holy  religion,  even  with  greater  disaster  to  those 
who  suffered  than  to  those  who  punished.  Nor 
is  it  by  crying  any  more  than  striving.  Ora- 
tory, philosophy,  all  kinds  of  pompous  show  and 
splendor  have  never  made  and  can  never  make 
a  Christian.  That  is  the  first  meaning  of  the 
text.      "  He  shall  not  strive  nor  cry,   neither 


THE    GENTLENESS   OF  JESUS.  y 

shall  He  lift  up  His  voice  in  the  streets.  A 
bruised  reed  shall  He  not  break,  the  smoking 
flax  shall  He  not  quench  till  judgment  go  forth 
to  victory."  His  victory  is  ever  the  result  of 
exceeding  gentleness. 

Turning  the  words  round,  we  find  yet  another 
message  in  them.  Here  is  a  blessed  ivord  for 
every  one.  If  the  gentleness  of  Jesus  be  such 
that  the  very  fierceness  of  His  foes  could  not 
provoke  Him  to  anger  or  strife  but  moved  Him 
only  to  pity,  like  the  rough  wind  of  autumn 
that  shakes  down  the  golden  fruit  from  the 
bough  which  it  assails  —  what  gentleness  hath 
He  for  those  who  fain  would  come  to  Him 
and  know  Him  as  their  Lord  and  Saviour.  A 
bruised  reed  will  He  not  break. 

A  brnised  reed.  What  a  common,  useless 
thing  it  is !  Away  by  the  lonely  pool,  where 
the  bleak  winds  blow  and  bend  the  fragile 
stems,  there  grow  the  reeds,  things  without 
much  beauty,  without  much  worth  at  best,  un- 
cultured, the  wild  growth  of  muddy  soil,  lapped 
by  the  water  and  shaken  by  the  breeze.  And 
among  the  very  many  here  is  one  broken  ;  trod- 
den down  by  some  heavy  foot,  or  withered  by 
decay  and  beaten  by  the  blast,  it  hangs  a  bruised 
reed.  Or  accordins:  to  others  it  is  the  reed  of 
the  pan-pipes,  split  and  spoilt  for  music,  dumb 


8  THE    GENTLENESS   OF  JESUS. 

or  hissing  only  under  the  breath  of  the  player, 
spoiling  the  tune  and  undoing  all  the  rest  of  the 
reeds.  A  bruised  reed  —  what  else  so  worth- 
less? And  a  smoking  flax,  the  light  gone  out, 
the  red  spark  only  left,  and  that  making  a 
smouldering  smeech  offensive  to  everybody. 
Not  only  no  good,  but  a  positive  annoyance. 
A  smoking  flax  will  He  not  quench. 

Without  unduly  pushing  the  figure  there  are 
two  causes  of  the  bruised  reed  and  of  the  smok- 
ing flax  —  circumstances  or  weakness  ;  accident 
or  neglect. 

The  bruised  reed — trodden  doivn  by  circum- 
stances. How  many  there  are  born  as  bruised 
and  broken  reeds  —  trampled  underfoot  from 
their  very  childhood,  beaten  down  by  coarseness 
and  harshness.  Faith  in  anything  or  anybody 
has  never  had  a  chance  of  growth ;  trust  has 
never  learnt  to  thrust  itself  forth.  Sworn  at 
and  struck  at,  poor  striving  hope  has  been 
starved  to  death  long  ago.  To  such  there  is 
a  depth  below  despair,  a  dulled  indifference ; 
for  them  there  is  no  good  anywhere  or  in  any- 
thing. Set  them  alongside  of  others  whose 
faith  has  always  been  encouraged,  whose  hope 
has  been  fed  and  burns  brightly,  for  whom  en- 
couragement waits  at  every  step.  This  very 
difference  from   others  is   another  burden  and 


THE    GENTLENESS   OF  JESUS.  9 

bruise.  Everything  is  against  them,  —  igno- 
rant, with  evil  habits  formed  before  choice  had 
any  voice  or  the  will  had  any  power.  Ah, 
would  to  God  that  we  could  get  at  these  bruised 
ones,  not  good  enough  often  to  come  to  any 
service.  For  these  our  most  gentle  and  gra- 
cious Master  comes  on  His  way.  The  bruised 
reed  He  will  not  break.  It  means  He  doth  not 
scorn  any.  His  love  holds  each  one  dear  to 
Himself.  He  never  turns  any  away  as  past 
mending  or  beyond  help.  The  bruised  reed, 
bent  and  more  than  bent,  broken,  though  not 
broken  off  :  what  can  be  done  }  Who  will  stay 
to  trouble  about  a  thing  like  that }  And  what 
can  one  do  for  it }  Careful  propping  and  binding 
and  a  thousand  outward  appliances,  lo,  there 
it  is  bruised  and  broken  still.  Ah,  He  will  stop 
and  stoop  to  the  reed.  Look  at  them  to-day 
on  the  verge  of  the  frozen  river,  dead,  bruised, 
broken,  a  matted  mass  of  rottenness  —  with- 
ered by  the  frost,  beaten  by  the  snow,  trodden 
underfoot.  But  come  again  in  but  a  few 
weeks'  time  and  look  at  the  reeds.  How  they 
live  and  flourish,  every  head  uplifted,  the  tall 
straight  stem  decked  with  the  green  leaves. 
Not  from  without,  but  from  within  has  come 
the  transforming  power.  The  resurrection  life 
of  spring  has  quickened  the  root,  and  heaven 


lO  THE    GENTLENESS   OF  JESUS. 

and  earth  have  met  together  to  uplift  and  bless 
and  beautify  the  bruised  reed. 

That  —  that,  and  nothing  less  than  that,  is 
the  power  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  He  is  the  root 
of  a  new  life ;  He  is  a  resurrection-power  in  the 
midst  of  men.  His  word  is  not  pity,  not  help, 
not  teaching;  it  is  more,  infinitely  more,  '' I  am 
the  Resurrection  and  the  Life."  He  gives  to 
those  who  come  to  Him  a  new  life,  a  new  heart, 
a  source  of  new  energy,  and  new  motives,  that 
unfold  from  within.  He  brings  hope  and  good- 
ness and  truth.  Pity  can  bring  food  and  fire 
and  clothes,  and  let  pity  make  haste  to  do  what 
it  can.  But  this  is  the  glory  of  the  gospel  of 
God :  this  is  the  praise  and  this  the  distinction 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  —  He  is  come  that  we 
may  have  life,  new  life,  life  more  abnndantly . 

But  not  by  cruel  circumstances  only  is  it  that 
the  reed  comes  to  be  bruised.  It  comes  often- 
times by  neglect,  a  weakness  that  is  wickedness, 
—  the  Word  hastily  read,  the  prayer  formally 
gone  through  ;  there  is  no  living  contact  with 
Him  Who  is  the  source  of  our  life,  no  heart 
communion  with  Jesus  Christ.  Who  does  not 
know  the  story  .'*  The  reed  that  was  vigorous 
and  verdant  grows  withered  and  yellow.  Little 
by  little  the  stem  that  pointed  steadily  heaven- 
ward droops  and  bends  over  the  earth  ;  lower  and 


THE   GENTLENESS   OF  JESUS.  1 1 

lower  it  sinks  until  now  it  sinks  helplessly,  the 
bruised  reed.  Here  again  He  comes  on  His 
way.  No  scorn  is  there  in  Him,  no  neglect  or 
indifference,  no  harsh  judgment ;  that  bruised 
reed  will  He  not  break.  Here  again  He  gives 
the  new  energy,  the  new  life,  the  life  more 
abundantly.  As  many  as  received  Him  to  them 
gave  He  power,  mUJiority,  to  become  the  chil- 
dren of  God. 

The  smoking  flax  does  but  repeat  the  truth  in 
another  form.  The  light  is  blown  out  by  adverse 
circumstances  or  suffered  to  go  out  by  neglect. 
The  smoking  flax  —  what  a  mercy  it  is  that  the 
spark  does  linger  so  long,  that  the  wick  does 
smoulder.  You  can  blow  out  the  flame,  but  you 
cannot  blow  out  the  fire.  You  may  lose  the 
light,  but  you  cannot  lose  the  desire.  Ah,  the 
fierce  winds  that  blow  about  one  in  this  great 
city,  how  often  have  they  blown  out  the  light ! 
At  home  in  the  country  screened  and  fed  it 
flourished,  but  here  at  first  perhaps  concealed, 
then  neglected,  a  puff  of  ridicule  was  enough  to 
put  it  out.  But  see,  no  scorn  is  there  in  Him, 
no  neglect,  no  indifference,  but  the  tenderness 
of  an  infinite  pity.  He  is  the  light  of  the  world 
as  well  as  the  life.  His  grace  unfailing  can  be 
the  oil  of  the  lamp,  the  store  of  its  energy,  as 
well  as  its  kindling  fire. 


12  THE    GENTLENESS   OF  JESUS. 

But  no  words  of  mine  can  tell  what  He  is  like 
so  sweetly  as  the  text  proclaims  it.  "  A  bruised 
reed  shall  He  not  break,  a  smoking  flax  shall 
He  not  quench."  Let  everybody  take  it  just  as 
he  needs  it.  It  means  that  He  cares  for  every 
bit  of  life,  every  breath,  every  spark  of  life. 
The  gardener  has  to  do  with  the  poor  little 
plants  and  seeds,  and  keeps  them  in  the  potting- 
house  or  the  hot-house  until  they  are  at  their 
stateliest  and  best,  and  then  they  are  taken  up 
to  the  hall  and  decorate  the  table.  Ah,  is  not 
this  the  gardener  .-*  He  does  not  wait  until  we 
are  at  our  fairest  and  best.  He  stoops  to  help 
us  at  our  deadest  and  dullest,  our  poorest  and 
worst,  when  life  is  almost  gone  out  and  the  fire 
is  at  its  last  spark.  He  can  help  us  and  keep 
us  in  the  most  trying  circumstances,  however 
bleak  winds  blow,  whatever  biting  frosts  come. 
A  most  gracious,  gentle,  pitiful  Saviour  is  He, 
and  as  mighty  as  He  is  gentle.  Press  up  to 
Him ;  go  on  your  way  communing  with  Him. 
Cleave  to  Him,  your  life ;  rest  in  Him,  your 
loving  Lord ;  exult  in  Him,  your  Almighty 
Saviour. 


II. 

THE  VISION   OF   GOODNESS. 

"  There  be  many  who  say,  Who  will  shew  us  any  good  ?  Lord, 
lift  Thou  up  the  light  of  Thy  countenance  upon  us." — Ps.  iv.  6. 

This  Psalm  must  ever  be  taken  with  that 
which  precedes  it.  The  third  and  the  fourth 
are  the  counterpart  of  each  other.  They  are 
written  in  the  same  circumstances.  The  in- 
scription at  the  head  of  the  third  Psalm  belongs 
equally  to  the  fourth.  It  is  a  Psalm  of  David 
when  he  fled  from  Absalom,  his  son,  taking 
with  him  his  wives  and  their  children. 

David  had  hurried  forth  from  the  palace  with 
a  brave  band  of  six  hundred  men,  bare-headed 
and  bent  in  his  great  grief,  whilst  the  people 
wept  aloud  beside  him,  exceeding  sorrowful, 
just  as  a  greater  than  David  went  long  after 
across  the  brook  Kedron  and  up  the  Mount  of 
Olives.  At  such  a  time  is  it  that  these  words 
are  uttered,  and  amid  such  sorrows.  About 
them  lies  the  desert.  They  have  but  a  little 
band    of    soldiers    to   protect    them.     The    sun 

13 


14  THE    VISION  OF  GOODNESS. 

sinks  behind  the  hills  ;  the  gloom  gathers  about 
them,  and  they  stand  under  these  Syrian  stars 
dreading  lest  in  the  darkness  Absalom  with  his 
army  should  burst  upon  them. 

Fugitives  in  the  lonely  wilderness,  they  who 
yesterday  had  all  the  luxuries  of  the  palace, 
to-night  are  without  a  bed  to  lie  upon,  or  a  tent 
to  shelter  them,  or  food  to  eat.  Then  rings 
the  cheery  confidence  of  David  in  these  brave 
words,  "  There  be  many  that  say,  Who  will  shew 
us  any  good }  Lord,  lift  Thou  up  the  light  of 
Thy  countenance  upon  us.  .  .  .  I  will  both  lay 
me  down  in  peace  and  sleep,  for  Thou,  Lord, 
only  makest  me  to  dwell  in  safety." 

See  then  that  which  gives  this  book  its  abid- 
ing force  and  authority.  It  is  the  Book  of 
Life ;  of  everyday  life ;  of  real,  hard,  stern  life. 
No  heroes  are  these,  of  unearthly  saintliness, 
screened  from  the  bitterness  of  its  blasts.  It 
is  the  book  of  men  and  women  often  wearied 
and  worn  out,  and  therefore  is  it  the  book  for 
men  and  women  of  to-day. 

What  a  homely  stave  is  this  with  which  the 
Psalm  ends,  full  of  a  brave  common-sense,  as 
well  as  a  blessed  restfulness.  "  I  will  both  lay 
me  down  and  sleep,  for  Thou,  Lord,  only  makest 
me  to  dwell  in  safety."  If  at  such  a  time  and 
beset   with    such    perils,    David    could    sing   so 


THE    VISION  OF  GOODNESS.  15 

cheery  a  note,  surely  every  one  of  us  may  make 
it  his  own  ! 

Taking  the  scene  and  circumstances  of  the 
text  we  may  see  how  naturally  the  question 
would  arise,  and  from  how  many  sides  it  would 
press  itself  upon  the  soul. 

I.  They  felt,  as  never  before,  the  lonelmess 
and  littleness  of  life.  They  had  come  forth 
from  David's  stronghold  in  Mount  Zion.  There 
the  soldiers  guarded  them  and  they  were  hedged 
about  with  a  great  feeling  of  safety.  Day  after 
day,  and  night  after  night,  no  danger  came  near 
their  dwelling.  Suddenly  they  are  thrust  forth 
into  all  these  rude  and  rough  discomforts  of  the 
wilderness ;  all  that  they  had  been  accustomed 
to  lean  upon  was  gone.  David  the  hero  king, 
—  David  the  unvanquished  was  flying  a  fugitive 
from  his  own  son,  and  the  nation  was  in  revolt 
against  him  who  seemed  so  strongly  seated  on 
the  throne  of  Israel. 

They  had  seen  the  king  go  bare-headed,  as  if 
the  crown  were  no  longer  his.  They  had  seen 
him  go  forth  from  his  own  city,  — the  sound  of 
that  weeping  was  within  their  ears.  They  had 
heard  Shimei  hurl  his  curse  at  the  Lord's 
anointed,  and  seen  him  in  fierce  hatred  fling 
stones    and    dirt    upon    the    unhappy  monarch. 


1 6  THE    VISION  OF  GOODNESS. 

And  now  they  are  in  the  wilderness,  weird  and 
mysterious,  —  the  great  stretch  of  heaven  over- 
head, the  stillness  broken  by  no  sound  except 
the  howl  of  the  wild  beast.  At  such  a  time, 
in  such  a  place,  well  might  they  ask,  "  Who 
shall  shew  us  any  good  ? " 

Life's  loneliness  —  there  are  times  when  we 
all  have  to  go  into  it, — there  are  chambers  in 
the  soul  where  no  foot  can  fall,  no  dearest  friend 
can  come.  There  are  circumstances  that  reveal 
to  us  this  loneliness  and  intensify  our  sense  of 
it.  Who  will  shew  us  any  good  at  such  times } 
There  is  nobody,  there  is  nothing  that  promises 
any  hope.  Life  becomes  a  thing  empty  and  for- 
saken, with  no  hand  that  can  lead  us,  no  voice 
that  can  speak  to  us.  No  light  breaks  through 
the  haunting  gloom.  There  is  but  one  answer 
to  that  cry  of  the  heart,  "  Lord,  lift  Thou  up  the 
light  of  Thy  countenance  upon  us." 

Alas,  when  we  come  to  talk  about  these  things 
in  sermons  and  on  Sundays,  they  are  listened  to 
only  as  opinions,  creeds,  things  that  some  people 
believe  to  be  true  and  some  do  not.  But  is  it 
an  opinion  only,  a  theory,  or  is  it  a  thing  that  is 
true  all  the  world  over  when  we  say  that  the 
mother  is  made  for  the  babe, — that  God  never 
gives  babies  to  any  but  mothers  because  the 
little  baby  and  the  mother  are  one  ?     Its  weak- 


THE    VISION  OF  GOODNESS.  17 

ness  must  find  its  safety  in  the  mother's  arms. 
The  littleness  is  lost  in  the  mother's  care.  The 
wants  are  met  by  the  mother's  ministry.  And 
when  we  come  to  conditions  which  render  us 
again  as  little  children,  lonely,  helpless,  wonder- 
ing, is  there  then  no  love  that  waits  for  us,  no 
pity  anywhere,  no  help.-^  Does  God's  great  love 
know  how  to  make  a  mother  and  end  there.-* 
Why,  I  am  the  least  and  lowest  of  all  things,  — 
the  poorest  and  most  miserable,  not  the  top  and 
crown  of  all  creation,  if  I  am  great  enough  to 
know  the  emptiness  of  earth,  to  feel  the  little- 
ness of  life,  and  yet  can  find  nothing  that  re- 
sponds and  corresponds  to  me.  All  nature 
mocks  me  if  that  be  so.  What  is  it  that  light 
fits  my  eye,  and  the  air  my  lungs,  and  the  food 
my  body,  if  the  great  deep  hungry  needs  within 
my  soul  can  never  be  satisfied }  I  am  but  the 
sport  of  all  creation  if  all  things  else  can  find 
that  which  perfectly  ministers  to  them,  and  I 
am  all  forsaken  in  the  loftiest  and  deepest  places 
of  the  soul.  Love,  that  glory  and  redemption  of 
our  humanity,  is  but  a  cruelty  and  wrong  if  it 
bend  over  the  unconscious  babe  with  such 
sacredness  of  service,  yet  when  we  stand  con- 
scious through  and  through  us  of  life's  loneli- 
ness and  littleness,  there  is  no  hand  stretched 
forth  to  help  us,  no  arm  of  love  to  guard  us,  no 
c 


i8  THE    VISION  OF   GOODNESS. 

great  heart  to  which  we  can  come  and  rest  and 
rejoice.  The  Son  of  God  comes  into  the  world 
to  hght  up  our  Uves  with  the  blessedness  of 
this  message,  **  Your  heavenly  Father  careth  for 
you.  Look  at  the  lilies  as  they  grow ;  think  of 
the  birds ;  remember  your  own  care  for  your 
own  child.  How  much  viore  shall yottr  Jieave^ily 
Father  care  for  yoii!^ 

For  life's  littleness  and  loneliness  there  is  but 
one  remedy.  Once  again  let  the  blessed  words 
fall  like  music  of  heaven  upon  our  souls,  "  And 
there  arose  a  famine  in  that  land,  and  the  citizen 
sent  him  into  the  fields  to  feed  swine,  and  he 
said,  I  perish  with  hunger."  Littleness  and 
loneliness,  —  there  it  is  truly.  ''And  he  said, 
I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father.  And  when  he 
was  yet  a  great  way  off  his  father  saw  him  and 
ran  and  fell  upon  his  neck  and  kissed  him." 

IL  See  how  the  mystery  of  it  all  prompted  the 
qjiestion,  ^' Who  will  shew  us  any  good?'*  The 
rebellion  burst  upon  the  nation  so  suddenly  that 
it  was  a  bolt  from  the  blue,  —  wrought  so  swiftly 
that  it  must  have  seemed  as  if  everybody  had 
been  playing  traitor  to  the  king.  David  knew 
not  either  how  to  explain  it  or  what  to  think  of 
it.  At  such  a  moment  all  that  one  counted 
most  stable  and  settled  is  broken  and  crashed 


THE    VISION  OF  GOODNESS.  1 9 

like  a  potter's  vessel.  Everything  merged  into 
a  hopeless  confusion,  and  what  more  might 
come  none  could  tell ;  cities,  tribes,  nations, 
might  all  be  involved  in  the  strife.  To  whom 
could  David  look  1  The  ground  trembled  be- 
neath his  feet ;  all  things  were  ready  to  be 
hurled  into  an  avalanche  of  ruin.  Absalom,  his 
own  son,  was  in  revolt.  Ahithophel,  the  chosen 
counsellor  of  David,  had  joined  the  rebels.  The 
palace  was  gone,  the  throne,  the  crown  were 
gone,  —  to  whom  could  he  look  t  "  Who  will 
shew  us  any  good  }  "  Then  comes  the  answer. 
Lord,  —  how  blessed  was  it  to  turn  from  all  the 
wreck  and  ruin  to  that  which  abideth,  the  un- 
changing Lord.  Absalom  was  gone,  and  many 
another.  He  knew  not  upon  whom  to  count, 
but  there  was  One  to  Whom  David  could  ap- 
peal with  restful  confidence,  "  Lord,  lift  TJioic 
tip  the  light  of  Thy  count eftance  upon  us.'"  It  is 
as  when  some  wrecked  sailor,  his  ship  flung 
hither  and  thither  by  wild  seas,  swept  from 
stem  to  stern,  is  borne  upon  a  great  wave  and 
grasps  a  projecting  rock  and  drags  himself  once 
more  upon  the  firm  earth,  and  there  he  stands 
and  looks  down  upon  the  thundering  waves  and 
raging  seas.  It  is  as  when  some  fugitive  creeps 
through  the  gloom  where  his  enemies  watch  to 
slay  him,  and  at  last  he  reaches  the  door  of  his 


20  THE    VISION  OF  GOODNESS. 

home  and  finds  himself  safe  amidst  its  sure  love 
and  glad  hospitalities. 

To  every  earnest  man  and  woman  there  come 
such  seasons,  or  such  conditions  when  one  is 
overwhelmed  with  mystery  and  nothing  seems 
sure,  nothing  safe.  The  heart  cries  in  its 
anxiety,  "  Who  will  shew  us  any  good  t  "  And 
here  again  let  us  honestly  ask  ourselves.  Is  our 
greatness  going  to  be  our  undoing }  Because 
I  am  capable  of  wonder,  able  to  see  the  mys- 
tery of  things,  to  look  before  and  after,  am  I  of 
all  things  in  the  round  world  to  be  alone  de- 
serted and  forsaken  }  Shall  every  creature  find 
all  that  its  capacity  requires, — the  beast  that 
roams  on  land,  the  bird  that  flies  in  the  air,  the 
fish  that  swims  in  the  sea, — is  each  to  be  per- 
fectly adapted  to  its  elements,  shall  all  find  that 
which  answers  to  their  need  t  And  yet  are  we 
capable  of  thinking  of  God,  of  death,  of  judg- 
ment, of  eternity,  only  to  be  deserted  and  mad- 
dened and  oppressed  by  the  mystery  of  it  all } 
Are  my  thoughts  to  go  outstretching  the  round 
world  and  all  that  therein  is,  and  can  I  find  no 
home  for  my  soul  in  which  love  opens  a  door  to 
greet  me }  Alas,  for  the  man  who  cannot  stand 
and  face  life's  mysteries  with  this  great  triumph, 
"  God  is  our  refuge  a7id  strengtJi,  a  very  present 
help   in    trouble.       Therefore  will  not   we  fear 


THE    VISION  OF  GOODNESS.  21 

though  the  eartJi  be  removed,  though  the  moun- 
tains thereof  be  carried  into  the  midst  of  the  sea.'' 

III.  Again,  —  Hef-e  in  the  wilderness,  beset 
by  so  many  perils,  every  mind  would  look  for- 
ward, stricken  with  the  sense  of  their  helpless- 
ness. Every  hour  their  condition  grew  more 
grave.  Whence  could  come  the  food  for  them- 
selves and  their  children }  Had  they  been 
brought  up  to  perish  in  this  wilderness }  Bet- 
ter that  the  enemy  should  come  upon  them 
than  that  they  should  wander  here  hungry  and 
thirsty,  with  no  city  to  dwell  in.  So  again 
comes  the  cry,  **Who  will  shew  us  any  good?" 

But  even  here  faith  finds  a  cheery  word. 
"  Lord,  lift  Thou  up  the  light  of  Thy  counte- 
nance upon  us."  To  have  the  smile  and  favor 
of  God  is  to  have  all  the  universe  at  our  service. 
He  who  fed  Israel  with  the  manna  from  heaven, 
and  fetched  the  water  from  the  rock,  can  do  as 
much  for  His  children  as  ever  He  did,  and  cares 
for  us  as  much  as  He  cared  for  them.  On  the 
morrow  the  little  frightened  company  wonder- 
ing, saw  over  the  hill  and  along  the  desert  the 
approach  of  another  company.  All  gathered 
alarmed.  There  came  three  chieftains  with 
their  followers  who  might  have  taken  advan- 
taofe  of  David's  weakness.     Two  of  them  had 


22  THE    VISION  OF  GOODNESS, 

been  aforetime  his  enemies.  But  now  they 
come  bringing  laden  wagons  filled  with  all 
sorts  of  good  things.  Here  is  Barzillai  the 
Gileadite,  and  Machir,  and  Shobi,  and  "  they 
brought  pots  and  basons  and  earthen  vessels 
and  wheat  and  barley  and  flour  and  parched 
corn  and  beans  and  lentils  and  honey  and  but- 
ter and  sheep  and  cheese  and  kine  for  David 
and  for  the  people  who  were  with  him,  for  they 
said,  The  people  is  hungry  and  weary  and  thirsty 
in  the  wilderness."  Let  us  every  one  be  sure 
of  this.  Every  door  on  earth  may  be  closed, 
but  never  heaven's  door.  If  we  can  look  no- 
where else  we  can  always  look  up. 

IV.  The  words  suggest  yet  another  aspect  of 
the  question.  This  flight,  this  peril,  this  bitter 
misery  of  rebellion,  with  its  awful  possibilities 
of  civil  war  between  father  and  son,  all  was  the 
result  of  David's  own  sin,  and  he  himself,  thus 
reminded  of  his  madness,  plunged  into  a  deeper 
penitence,  might  well  ask,  "  Who  will  shew  us 
any  good } "  If  the  man  who  had  done  such 
wonders  in  God's  name,  and  had  endured  so 
much,  and  had  dared  so  much,  who  had  dealt 
so  nobly  with  Saul  and  his  house,  a  man  who 
had  been  so  wise  and  lofty  in  all  his  ways,  — 
if  he  can  sink  down  into  such  miserable  folly 


THE    VISION   OF  GOODNESS.  23 

and  crime,  if  he  can  compass  the  vilest  of  mur- 
ders in  order  to  accomplish  the  basest  of  lusts, 
"Who  will  shew  us  any  good?"  Is  there  any 
such  thing  as  goodness  ?  Is  it  not  after  all 
only  a  word  and  a  dream  ?  So  are  there  many 
that  ask  the  question  to-day,  and  ask  it  with  a 
sickness  of  despair.  There  is  an  answer,  —  an 
answer  for  every  one  of  us,  "  Lord,  lift  Thou  up 
the  light  of  Thy  countenance  upon  us." 

We  saw  just  now  the  laden  wagons,  and  the 
chieftains  bringing  the  store  of  provisions  for 
David  and  his  people.  Does  the  sun  shine  in 
the  heavens,  does  the  rain  fall,  and  are  the  sea- 
sons set  to  give  us  our  daily  bread,  and  yet  are 
the  great  hungry  longings  of  the  soul  for  good- 
ness to  go  for  ever  unsatisfied }  Is  there  no 
power  that  can  break  the  force  of  evil;  no  whis- 
per of  hope  ;  no  hand  that  can  lift  us  up  out 
of  the  mire  and  clay  and  set  our  feet  upon  the 
rock }  TJiere  must  be.  Thank  God  there  is  ! 
"I  will  lift  up  mine  eyes  unto  the  hills  from 
whence  cometh  my  help."  And  lo,  there  com- 
eth  the  very  Son  of  God  Himself  to  be  the 
Saviour  of  the  world.  He  hath  broken  the 
power  of  evil.  He  is  the  all-conquering  good- 
ness, stretching  out  to  us  His  hand  that  we 
may  find  an  Almighty  help,  and  learn  to  cry 
exultantly,  "/  can  do  all  things  through  CJirist 
which  strengthenetJi  me^ 


III. 

IS   NOT   THIS   THE   CARPENTER? 

"  Is  not  this  the  carpenter?  "  —  Si.  Mark  vi.  3. 

The  Lord  Jesus  had  gone  up  to  the  city  of 
Nazareth.  Once  before  He  had  visited  it,  im- 
mediately after  His  baptism  and  at  the  very 
beginning  of  His  ministry,  only  to  be  angrily 
rejected  with  furious  violence.  This  time  His 
fame,  which  was  being  spread  through  the  land, 
led  them  to  receive  Him  with  a  greater  show  of 
welcome.  They  were  eager  to  hear  His  words 
and  to  see  His  works.  But  a  second  time  they 
turned  from  Him  scornfully,  "  Whence  hath 
this  man  these  things  }  " 

The  words  may  have  in  them  that  dark  and 
dreadful  meaning  which  the  Pharisees  did  not 
hesitate  to  express  more  plainly  when  they 
ascribed  His  miracles  to  the  power  of  the  devil. 
At  any  rate,  the  people  of  Nazareth  were  of- 
fended in  Him  and  went  muttering,  *'  Whence 
hath  this  man  these  things  }  Is  not  this  the 
carpenter,    the    son    of    Mary,    the    brother   of 

24 


IS  NOT   THIS   THE    CARPENTER?  25 

James,  and  Joses,  and  of  Jude,  and  Simon  ? 
and  are  not  his  sisters  here  with  us  ? " 

How  natural  it  was,  and  what  a  stamp  of 
truth  it  gives  to  the  whole  record.  That  "which 
offended  the  people  of  Nazareth  has  offended 
all  the  world  in  all  the  ages.  How  can  any 
man  be  great  when  you  know  all  about  him  ? 
when  you  knew  his  father  and  mother  —  knew 
him  as  a  child  t  To  many  of  those  it  seemed 
only  yesterday  that  they  saw  Him  a  little  lad 
at  His  mother's  door.  How  could  He  be  great 
Whom  they  had  seen  bending  at  His  work  with 
the  sweat  on  His  brow,  making  some  simple 
thing  for  daily  use  .'' 

"  He  marvelled  because  of  their  unbelief,"  we 
read.  This  very  thing  for  which  they  scorned 
Him,  is  His  greatness,  His  glory.  He  came 
to  bring  God  into  everything ;  into  the  whole 
round  of  daily  life ;  into  childhood,  and  youth, 
and  manhood ;  into  all  the  conditions  and  rela- 
tionships of  every  day.  We  must  be  as  careful 
not  to  lose  the  human  nature  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
in  His  divinity  as  we  are  not  to  lose  His  divine 
nature  in  His  humanity. 

Let  us  set  that  home-life  of  Nazareth  clearly 
before  tis.  Probably  there  is  nothing  in  the 
three  years  of  the  Lord's  ministry  that  is  not 


26  IS  NOT    THIS    THE    CARPENTER? 

more  familiar  to  us  than  the  conditions  in  which 
He  lived  for  thirty  years. 

There  is  the  widowed  mother,  with  the  family 
of  six  children  besides  Himself  —  four  brothers 
and  two  sisters.  There  are  James,  and  Joses, 
and  Jude,  and  Simon,  and  the  sisters,  Esther  and 
Tamar. 

There  is  a  curious  trace  of  the  family  handed 
down  to  us  by  one  of  the  Church  fathers,  who 
wrote  one  hundred  and  thirty  years  after  the 
death  of  Jesus  Christ.  He  tells  us  that  the 
Roman  emperor  Domitian,  as  much  troubled  at 
the  name  of  Jesus  as  Herod  had  been,  enquired 
for  any  kinsfolk  of  the  Lord  still  living.  Two 
men  were  traced  as  the  grandsons  of  Jude,  the 
brother  of  Jesus,  and  were  taken  to  Rome.  The 
emperor  asked  them  if  they  were  of  the  lineage 
of  David.  They  replied  that  they  were.  He 
then  asked  what  property  they  owned  ;  and  they 
told  him  that  they  had  between  them  some  three 
hundred  pounds,  not  in  silver,  but  in  the  value 
of  a  piece  of  land  containing  some  thirty-nine 
acres,  from  which  they  raised  the  taxes  and 
supported  themselves  by  their  labor.  They 
showed  him  their  hands,  which  were  hard  and 
rough  with  daily  toil.  The  emperor  then  asked 
them  some  questions  about  Christ,  and  after 
hearing  their  answers  dismissed  them  as  simple 


IS  NOT   THIS   THE    CARPENTER?  27 

men  about  whom  it  was  useless  to  trouble  any- 
further. 

All  that  is  told  us  in  the  experience  of  that 
early  life  is  of  beautiful  simplicity.  Jesus  was 
no  prodigy,  startling  people  by  wonders  of  de- 
velopment. The  story  is  of  a  simple  childhood, 
with  homely  feelings  ;  a  quiet  life,  subject  to 
His  parents,  and  working  for  His  daily  bread. 
The  life  at  Nazareth  was,  we  are  sure,  full  of 
exquisite  beauty  in  word  and  deed  —  of  stainless 
goodness  and  confidence  in  God,  and  sweet 
unselfishness  and  gentle  wisdom,  and,  if  need 
be,  of  stern  reproof  of  wrong  and  cruelty.  Yet 
it  is  plain  that  He  is  perfectly  one  with  all 
about  Him.  He  lives  in  a  little  white  flat- 
roofed  house  in  a  narrow  street  of  Nazareth, 
on  the  top  of  which  the  doves  sun  themselves. 
The  door  is  open,  for  the  only  light  enters 
there,  and  we  see  the  one  room  in  which  the 
family  lives.  There  are  a  few  mats  on  the 
floor ;  a  ledge  is  built  into  the  wall,  covered 
with  cushions  and  bright  clothes  —  at  night  the 
bed  of  the  inmates,  by  day  a  shelf  for  dishes. 
A  painted  chest  stands  in  one  corner  of  the 
room,  containing  the  little  family  treasures. 
Near  the  door  are  two  or  three  large  water 
jars,  with  green  leaves  on  top  of  them  to  keep 
the  water  fresh  and  cool.       At  mealtimes  the 


28  IS  NOT   THIS    THE    CARPENTER? 

painted  stool  is  brought  into  the  centre  to  hold 
the  tray  and  dishes,  round  which  the  family 
sits  cross-legged.  Beside  the  house  would  be 
the  carpenter's  shop,  with  bench  and  tools,  and 
outside  it  the  timber,  and  the  things  that  had 
been  brought  for  repair.  A  carpenter  in  Naza- 
reth would  find  much  to  do,  for  while  the  place 
was  shut  in  by  the  hills,  yet  beside  it  ran  the 
main  thoroughfare  from  north  to  south,  and 
along  its  narrow  streets  came  Roman  soldiers 
and  Greek  merchants  and  Arabs  with  their 
camels,  and  the  stir  of  busy  life  filled  the  place. 

Here  then  it  was,  far  away  from  the  narrow 
exclusiveness  of  Judea,  that  the  Lord  Jesus  grew 
up  as  boy  and  man,  storing  His  mind  with  the 
images  which  He  wrought  into  His  parables. 
On  the  slope  of  the  hills  the  grass  was  gay  with 
a  myriad  flowers  that  His  Father  clothed  in  all 
their  beauty.  Here  sang  the  happy  birds  that 
His  Father  fed  with  never-failing  bounty.  He 
stood  and  watched  the  hen  as  with  frightened 
care  she  gathered  the  chickens  under  her  wing 
to  protect  them  from  the  hovering  hawk.  In 
the  hills  the  foxes  had  their  holes.  Best  of  all 
we  can  think  He  loved  to  watch  the  shepherd 
as  he  went  leading  the  sheep,  carrying  the  little 
lamb  in  his  bosom. 

He  was  one  with  all  the  world  in  which  He 


IS  NOT    THIS    THE    CARPENTER?  29 

lived,  —  a  child  with  the  children,  a  youth  with 
the  youths.  Every  incident  of  the  village  life 
had  for  Him  a  deep  interest,  —  the  scenes  of 
its  weddings  and  its  funerals,  the  work  of  the 
people,  the  sower  and  the  merchant,  the  blind 
beggar  and  the  leper  and  the  sick  folk.  He 
went  in  and  out  amongst  them,  ever  observant, 
reading  with  those  clear  eyes  of  His  the  very 
hearts  of  men,  perceiving  beneath  their  words 
and  deeds  the  hidden  life,  and  everywhere  see- 
ing the  goodness  that  lay  in  men.  To  Him  no 
human  interest  appealed  in  vain.  His  ready 
sympathy  and  quick  spirit  entered  deeply  into 
the  problems  that  stirred  the  age.  No  recluse, 
no  lonely  and  isolated  youth  was  He,  dreaming 
and  misunderstood.  The  fact  that  He  was  so 
perfectly  one  with  them  all  made  His  offence 
and  gave  to  their  complaint  its  force,  "  He  is 
but  one  of  us,"  they  said,  "whence  hath  this 
man  these  things  }  " 

Look  at  this  as  the  distinctive  glory  of  Jesus. 
Of  all  the  great  leaders  and  reformers  of  the 
Bible  He  alone  went  directly  forth  from  the 
midst  of  the  people  whom  he  had  come  to  de- 
liver. Moses  had  sought  to  do  so,  but  the  people 
angrily  resented  his  coming  and  turned  upon 
him,  "Who  made  thee  a  prince  and  a  judge 
over  us  } "     And  he  had  to  go  into  the  wilder- 


30  IS  NOT   THIS   THE    CARPENTER? 

ness,  hidden  for  forty  years;  then  he  comes 
with  all  the  mystery  and  awe  of  the  unknown 
and  is  hailed  as  their  deliverer. 

Elijah  startled  the  nation  as  a  mystery,  —  a 
strange  presence  distinct  in  look  and  address  ; 
in  tone  and  manner  he  was  one  alone  and  apart. 
The  people  came  to  think  of  him  as  possessed 
of  some  power  that  made  him  invisible,  or  in- 
deed that  he  was  taken  up  to  heaven  as  soon  as 
his  message  was  spoken,  —  a  lightning  flash,  sent 
for  a  moment  out  of  the  gloom,  threatening  and 
terrible,  a  crash  of  thunder  at  his  heels, — and 
he  was  gone.  So  Obadiah  speaks  to  him  :  "  It 
shall  come  to  pass  that  as  soon  as  my  back  is 
turned  the  Lord  shall  carry  thee  I  know  not 
whither." 

John  the  Baptist  was  in  the  wilderness  until 
the  day  of  his  showing  to  Israel.  Then  he 
startled  men  as  a  voice^  a  thing  without  flesh 
and  blood,  that  scarcely  wore  our  humanity  and 
that  belonged  to  some  purely  spiritual  realm. 
With  the  long  hair  of  the  Nazarite  blowing 
about  him,  and  the  rough  dress  of  camel  skin  se- 
cured with  the  leathern  girdle,  he  stood  another 
Elijah,  his  very  food  a  thing  peculiar,  holding 
himself  aloof  from  the  homes  and  haunts  of 
the  people,  a  voice  in  the  wilderness. 

But  as  Jesus  comes  they  know  all  about  Him. 


IS  NOT    THIS    THE    CARPENTER?  31 

" Is  not  this  the  carpenter?"  The  Httle  children 
know  Him,  and  had  often  gone  to  play  about 
His  shop  and  never  got  an  unkind  word.  Many 
a  poor  old  body  who  had  come  to  pick  up  the 
chips  and  shavings,  said,  **  Oh  yes,  we  know 
Him  right  well,  the  carpenter."  Everything 
about  Him  made  Him  one  with  the  people.  His 
very  disciples  were  simple  fishermen  who  by 
their  presence  encouraged  the  people  to  draw 
near.  He  wore  the  dress  of  the  people,  not 
that  of  the  Rabbis.  His  look  and  tone  and 
manner  were  all  simple  and  homely.  He  did  not 
stand  praying  at  the  street  corners,  nor  sound 
any  trumpet  before  Him  when  He  did  His  won- 
ders. He  sat  down  to  eat  and  drink  with  all 
sorts  of  people,  publicans  and  sinners.  He  went 
to  a  wedding  and  gladdened  the  party  with  a 
supply  of  wine.  He  talked  so  that  everybody 
understood  Him,  and  brought  into  His  sermons 
all  those  everyday  things  that  the  people  had  to 
do  with.  Our  ultra-refinement  and  fastidious 
ways  would  be  almost  as  much  shocked  as  were 
the  haughty  and  exclusive  Pharisees  of  those 
times  if  He  came  again  to-day. 

But  what  was  the  result }  Everybody  felt  at 
home  with  Him,  felt  as  if  He  belonged  to  them. 
Do  you  see  how  the  people  were  always  drawing 
7iear  to  Him  —  those  who  dared  not  draw  near 


32  IS  NOT   THIS    THE    CARPENTER? 

to  any  other  good  person  could  come  close  to 
Him.  We  can  scarcely  think  of  an  outcast 
woman  falling  down  at  the  feet  of  Moses  to 
screen  herself  from  her  accusers.  We  can 
scarcely  think  of  the  leper  casting  himself  at 
the  feet  of  the  stern  Elijah.  We  can  scarcely 
think  of  the  little  children  tripping  up  to  John 
the  Baptist.  But  to  Jesus  everybody  came, 
leper  and  blind  beggar  and  little  children. 

If  there  is  one  thing  more  than  another  that 
the  blessed  Lord  longs  to  do  for  us,  it  is  that 
He  should  be  at  home  with  us  every  one,  our 
Friend  and  Brother  as  well  as  our  Redeemer 
and  Saviour  coming  right  into  the  life  and  fill- 
ing it  with  His  presence.  If  there  is  one  thing 
more  than  another  that  grieves  His  great  love, 
it  is  that  we  make  Him  but  One  of  Whom  we 
sing  in  our  hymns  and  preach  in  our  sermons, 
of  Whom  we  think  in  His  high  glory  as  the 
Lord  of  heaven,  whilst  the  daily  life  is  left  just 
as  lonely  and  the  week  just  as  empty  as  if  He 
had  never  come  at  all.  His  great  love  longs  to 
come  right  home  with  us,  to  come  right  home  to 
us, — to  fit  into  our  wants  and  to  fill  the  round 
of  life  with  the  light  and  peace  and  strength  and 
music  of  His  love. 

Think,  again,  of  that  life  in  Nazareth  for 
thirty  years.     Thirty  years  !     And  as  the  great 


AS-  NOT   THIS    THE    CARPENTER?  33 

Preacher  and  Teacher  only  three.  Only  three 
years  for  that  mighty  ministry.  And  why  ? 
Well,  of  the  many  answers  that  suggest  them- 
selves, this  perhaps  is  the  chief.  Most  men 
are  not  teachers  or  preachers.  Life  is  mostly 
a  simple,  lowly,  hidden  thing,  lived  in  the  little 
home,  having  to  do  with  the  same  people,  having 
to  do  with  the  same  things, — a  round  of  want 
and  work,  of  eating  and  drinking  and  sleeping 
and  waking,  dreary  and  commonplace,  to  and 
fro  in  the  little  circle  of  the  day.  That  is  life 
always  with  most  of  us,  and  that  is  life  mostly 
with  all  of  us. 

Think  of  it  again, — the  kitchen,  the  family, 
the  workshop,  the  counter,  the  desk,  day  after 
day  the  same.  There  is  a  perpetual  danger  lest 
we  should  come  to  think  that  such  a  sphere  is 
too  little  and  too  narrow  for  the  high  life  of 
God.  For  the  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords 
there  seems  to  be  needed  something  sublime  and 
splendid.  We  are  always  wanting  wings  to  fly 
with  in  God's  service,  and  we  have  only  hands 
and  feet.  The  Lord  Jesus  Christ  comes  into 
the  world  to  teach  us  by  those  thirty  years  of 
life  as  the  Carpenter,  that  the  loftiest  service 
of  God  can  be  lived  out  in  the  lowliest  condi- 
tions, —  that  to  do  one's  work  honestly  and 
thoroughly  and   cheerfully  is  as  much  the  ser- 


34  -^S  NOT   THIS    THE    CARPENTER? 

vice  of  God  as  the  life  of  the  angels  before  His 
throne. 

We  have  often  been  told  that  these  thirty 
years  were  the  long  and  patient  training  for 
His  life-work.  Is  it  not  rather  that  these  thirty 
years  were  the  patient  doing  of  that  work  ?  Was 
it  not  as  a  lad  of  twelve  that  He  said,  "Wist 
ye  not  that  I  must  be  about  My  Father's  busi- 
ness } "  And  from  that  hour  assuredly  He  ever 
did  His  Father's  business. 

We  see  Him  in  that  little  home ;  rising  early 
He  hastens  to  help  His  widowed  mother  with 
such  household  service  as  He  can  render.  He 
hurries  to  bear  the  pitcher  to  the  well.  All  day 
He  seeks  to  bring  into  the  home  some  bit  of 
sunny  brightness,  some  cheery  confidence,  some 
holy  peace.  And  in  his  work  He  is  able  to 
make  things  such  as  every  carpenter  makes,  — 
things  that  minister  to  the  pleasure  and  service 
of  men.  Thus  is  He  doing  the  business  of  His 
Father  in  heaven  day  after  day  and  year  after 
year  through  all  those  thirty  years. 

For  us  the  great  lesson  is  this  —  that  the  only 
religion  a  man  has,  is  what  he  has  always,  not 
sometimes,  — what  he  is  in  eveiything,  not  just 
now  and  then. 

The  measure  of  our  religion  is  not  in  feeling, 
but  in  doing;  not  in  services  on  Sunday,  but  in 


IS  NOT    THIS   THE    CARPENTER?  35 

service  all  through  the  week.  How  utterly  and 
miserably  mistaken  are  they  who  think  that  reli- 
gion begins  with  a  convulsion,  and  lives  in  an 
agony  of  effort  or  the  ecstasy  of  rapture.  Here 
is  the  highest  and  holiest  life  that  ever  was 
lived,  or  that  ever  can  be,  —  the  little  round  of 
daily  life,  filled  up  with  honest  work  and  simple 
love  to  God  and  men. 


IV. 

THE   QUEEN    OF  SHEBA. 
I. 

"The  queen  of  the  south  shall  rise  up  in  the  judgment  with 
this  generation  and  shall  condemn  it :  for  she  came  from  the 
uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  to  hear  the  wisdom  of  Solomon; 
and,  behold,  a  greater  than  Solomon  is  here."  —  S^.  Matt.  xii.  42. 

The  visit  of  the  Queen  of  Sheba  marks  the 
dimax  of  the  greatness  of  Solomon.  It  is  a 
remarkable  proof  of  the  new  spirit  that  had 
come  upon  the  nation.  Hitherto  the  people 
of  Israel  had  been  wholly  agricultural :  the  great 
peculiarity  of  their  country  was  its  isolation, 
situated  in  the  very  midst  of  the  nations  of 
the  earth,  yet  it  was  curiously  shut  in  and  shut 
out.  A  sea-board  without  a  harbor ;  without  a 
single  navigable  river ;  with  a  vast  desert  on  the 
south,  a  lofty  mountain  range  on  the  north,  and 
that  strange  descent  of  the  Jordan  valley  in  the 
east  going  down  more  than  a  thousand  feet  be- 
low the  level  of  the  sea.  But  Solomon  changed 
all  that.     His  enterprise  did  not  exhaust  itself 

36 


THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA.  37 

in  building  the  Temple  and  palace  of  Jerusalem. 
He  actually  crosses  the  great  desert  to  the  south, 
and  at  the  head  of  the  gulf  that  runs  up  to  the 
east  of  the  Arabian  peninsula  he  makes  a  har- 
bor and  himself  superintends  the  building  of  a 
fleet  of  ships,  and  sends  them  to  traffic  in  the 
east,  as  the  ships  of  Tarshish  sailed  away  to  the 
west.  Thence  he  reached  to  the  Indies  and 
brought  home  the  sandal-wood  and  the  apes 
and  peacocks  and  many  of  the  treasures  with 
which  he  enriched  the  palace  and  garden. 

Thus  his  merchants  and  sailors,  like  those  of 
our  own  Queen  Elizabeth,  went  away  to  strange 
lands,  carrying  with  them  wherever  they  went 
the  tidings  of  their  great  king,  of  the  Temple 
that  he  had  built  to  Jehovah  the  God  of  Israel ; 
of  the  palace  splendors ;  of  his  throne  of  state 
in  the  cedar  Judgment  Hall,  a  throne  of  ivory 
with  golden  lions  on  each  step,  the  seat  of  which 
was  a  golden  bull  and  the  footstool  was  of  gold. 
Now  of  the  countries  that  they  visited  one  was 
famous  for  its  gold  and  frankincense  and  pre- 
cious stones.  It  was  the  land  of  Sheba  to  the 
south.  Thither  came  the  captains  and  crews 
of  Solomon's  ships,  and  the  Queen  heard  of  the 
strangers  who  had  come  to  trade  with  them  in 
their  vessels  from  afar,  men  of  a  strange  lan- 
guage.    She  sent  for  them  to  the  court  to  hear 


38  THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA. 

from  their  own  lips  the  wonderful  things  they 
had  to  tell  of  their  great  king  and  of  their  God 
and  of  Jerusalem. 

The  mere  pageantry  of  the  visit  to  Jerusalem 
has  hidden  from  us  the  true  queenliness  and 
spirit  of  this  woman.  It  was  no  idle  curiosity 
that  prompted  a  journey  involving  so  much  risk 
and  difficulty.  Her  very  throne  itself  was  im- 
perilled by  her  departure  and  long  absence.  It 
is  a  proof  of  how  firmly  she  was  set  in  the  affec- 
tions of  her  people  that  she  could  venture  to 
leave  the  land ;  a  proof  of  her  courage  that  she 
should  dare  to  set  out  on  such  a  journey.  We 
can  think  that  hearing  of  the  wisdom  of  Solo- 
mon, hearing  of  the  great  things  that  he  has 
done  for  his  people,  hearing  above  all  that  he 
has  brought  such  prosperity  to  the  land  that 
every  man  could  sit  safely  under  his  own  vine 
and  fig-tree,  she  forms  her  purpose.  If  she  could 
learn  to  do  so  much  for  her  own  people  it  were 
worth  anything.  When  the  merchants  have  gone 
we  can  see  her  turn  to  her  statesmen,  every  inch 
a  queen,  and  full  already  of  her  lofty  purpose,  — 
"  If  I  could  but  secure  such  well-being  for  this 
nation  of  mine  I  should  count  it  cheaply  earned 
if  I  went  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  to  get  it." 

Again  the  merchants  are  sent  for  and  all  in- 
quiry is  made  as  to  the  direction  of  this  goodly 


THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA.  39 

land  and  how  it  can  be  reached.  The  answer 
could  not  but  be  discouraging.  Distances  were 
immense  in  those  days.  In  these  days  there 
are  no  distances.  It  was  a  journey  for  camels, 
by  no  means  a  comfortable  method  of  proceed- 
ing ;  the  soldiers  must  guard  her,  for  there 
were  many  robbers  ;  the  servants  must  go  to 
wait  upon  her,  for  her  state  must  be  in  keeping 
with  the  greatness  of  the  foreign  court.  She 
must  take  with  her  a  load  of  the  most  splendid 
and  costly  gifts.  Then  there  was  the  great  and 
terrible  wilderness  to  be  crossed,  in  which  many 
had  perished. 

I  am  sure  many  an  old  counsellor  shook  his 
head  over  the  proposal.  "These  strangers,"  said 
one,  "are  given  to  boasting,  and  boasting  lives 
next  door  to  lying,  indeed  very  often  in  the  same 
house."  Another  said,  these  new-fangled  no- 
tions of  prosperity  would  not  suit  their  people, 
they  were  used  to  being  miserable  and  never 
would  be  happy  without  it.  (That  old  counsellor 
is  living  still,  I  know.)  Another  muttered  to 
himself  that  Her  Majesty  was  so  enthusiastic  — 
and  that  was  so  foolish.  If  Solomon  wanted  the 
Queen  to  come,  let  her  wait  till  he  asked  her. 
It  would  be  time  enough  to  think  about  it  then. 
And  he  proceeded  to  tell  of  a  thousand  ills  that 
would  very  likely  befall  her  if  she  would  go. 


40  THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA. 

(That  counsellor  is  living  too,  I  fancy.)  My 
lord  chamberlain  spent  all  his  time  trying  to  find 
a  precedent,  and  was  so  long  in  finding  it  that 
Her  Majesty  was  gone.  And  if  she  was  the 
woman  I  think  she  was,  she  left  a  message  for 
him,  "  Tell  my  lord  that  for  a  queen  the  truest 
etiquette  is  the  welfare  of  her  people." 

Now  I  want  us  to  think  honestly  and  earnestly 
what  have  we  heard  }  What  are  these  tidings 
that  have  come  into  our  midst .''  That  there  is 
a  life  in  which  the  love  of  God  is  no  vague 
thought,  no  mere  theory,  but  a  felt  and  living 
reality,  as  real  and  close  and  constant  and  true 
as  a  mother's  love  to  her  little  one ;  a  love  that 
delivers  life  from  its  loneliness,  that  looses  its 
burdens  of  care,  that  hushes  its  fear,  that  brings 
into  the  soul  a  blessed  peace  and  sunny  hope. 
That  this  great  love  waits  to  welcome  us  with 
an  abundant  and  glad  forgiveness  of  the  past, 
blotting  it  out  and  remembering  it  against  us  no 
more  for  ever.  Have  we  not  heard  that  there 
is  One  Who  has  broken  the  power  of  death  — 
abolisJied  it — and  who  hath  opened  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven  to  all  believers }  Best  of  all 
and  most  blessed,  have  we  not  heard  that  there 
is  One  Who  is  able  to  break  within  us  the  power 
of  evil,  to  fulfil  in  us  all  the  loftiest  longings  of 


THE    QUEEN   OF  SIIEBA.  4 1 

the  heart,  Who  is  able  to  Hft  us  up  out  of  our 
weakness  and  to  make  us  strong  for  all  that  is 
truest  and  purest  and  best  ;  to  make  us  rnore 
than  conquerors,  to  create  within  us  a  new  heart, 
to  put  into  us  a  new  will  and  a  power  that  can 
achieve  all  goodness  and  all  righteousness  ?  Now 
if  that  be  so  what  then  ? 

If  it  were  only  whispered,  hinted  at  by  any 
broken  words,  were  it  not  worth  the  seeking  ? 
Columbus  found  on  the  coast  of  Spain  some 
strange  bits  of  drift-wood  and  foreign  weeds 
which  he  knew  must  come  from  an  unknown 
world,  and  with  no  better  evidence  he  launched 
out  on  the  great  deep  and  went  on  under  strange 
stars  and  over  trackless  seas  until  he  found  that 
new  world.  To-day  Nansen  with  no  better  evi- 
dence believed  in  a  current  that  ran  in  the  Arctic 
Sea,  and  on  the  strength  of  his  belief  thrust  his 
little  craft  right  into  the  ice  and  let  her  drift. 
Have  we  not  about  us  a  thousand  evidences  to 
prompt  our  search }  Have  there  not  been  a 
thousand  lives  and  deaths  that  make  us  feel  there 
is  something  greater  and  more  blessed  than 
aught  that  is  human,  to  be  found  somewhere  if 
we  will  seek  it }  The  life  that  has  come  nearest 
to  our  ideal,  has  it  not  found  its  inspiration  in 
Jesus  Christ  .'*  The  noblest  charities  and  the 
most  resolute  endeavor  to  bless  and  uplift  men, 


42  THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA. 

have  they  not  been  prompted  by  His  life  and 
His  example  ?  That  very  Cross  which  is  the 
symbol  of  our  religion,  does  it  not  mean  a  life  of 
self-surrender  for  the  good  of  others,  a  giving  of 
ourselves  to  death  for  their  sakes  ?  And  is  it 
not  something,  is  it  not  everything,  that  to-day 
the  loftiest,  truest,  noblest  life  that  any  man 
can  live  is  that  which  is  likest  to  that  life  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ  ?  To  think  as 
He  thought,  to  say  as  He  said,  to  do  as  He  did, 
is  to  find  the  life  that  is  ever  and  ever  the  best 
for  ourselves  and  for  the  world  about  us.  Why 
is  He  never  left  behind  ?  Why  is  He  and  He 
alone  ever  in  advance  of  the  ages  ?  Why  is  it 
that  to-day,  nearly  nineteen  centuries  after  He 
lived  and  died,  never  was  His  name  so  honored, 
never  were  His  words  so  treasured,  never  was 
His  influence  so  widespread  in  its  beneficence  ? 
So  then  do  we  not  every  one  of  us  stand  to- 
day beset  on  every  side  with  that  which  might 
well  prompt  us  to  enquire  into  this  matter. 
How  little,  how  scanty  and  uncertain  were  the 
tidings  which  came  to  the  queen  of  old,  com- 
pared to  that  which  we  have  had  concerning  the 
greater  than  Solomon,  our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ. 
Let  us  give  heed  to  the  solemn  words  of  the 
Lord  Jesus,  lest  this  queen  from  afar  rise  up  in 
judgment  against  us  to  condemn  us. 


THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA.  43 

This  Queen  of  the  South  zvas  not  content  zvith 
hearing  about  Solomon.  She  did  not  listen  to 
the  tale  that  these  merchants  told,  and  then  talk 
for  a  minute  or  two  about  it,  and  straightway 
forget  it  all,  as  if  it  were  of  no  further  concern. 
She  made  up  her  mind  there  and  then  that  if 
such  an  one  lived  she  would  go  to  him  and  ask 
such  questions  as  he  and  only  he  could  answer, 
that  would  give  her  peace  and  be  a  blessing  to 
her  people. 

She  was  iiot  content  with  asking  the  connsellors 
what  they  thought  of  it,  even  the  oldest  or  the 
wisest  of  them.  She  did  not  send  an  ambassa- 
dor to  the  king ;  matters  like  these  were  per- 
sonal and  sacred,  and  she  must  go  herself,  and 
go  she  did. 

Oh,  the  misery  of  it  is  that  such  hosts 
amongst  us  are  content  with  hearing  about 
these  blessings  of  God.  Alas,  there  are  thou- 
sands of  people  who  think  all  this  is  only  to  be 
preached  about,  never  to  be  sought  after :  only 
to  be  heard  about,  never  really  found.  There  are 
thousands  of  people  who  would  not  think  of  miss- 
ing the  service,  and  yet  never  once  in  their  lives 
have  they  said  in  downright  earnest,  "  If  this 
Jesus  Christ  of  Whom  I  hear  be  the  living  and 
loving  Saviour  I  will  find  Him  for  my  very  own." 
Better  never  to  have  heard  a  sermon  at  all  than 


44  THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA. 

to  get  into  the  habit  of  thinking  that  hearing 
about  Him  is  all.  How  many  others  are  content 
with  hearing  what  others  say  of  Him.  If  others 
raise  difficulties  and  objections  they  are  ready 
at  once  to  accept  them.  My  brother,  this  is  a 
personal  matter  between  God  and  the  soul. 
Those  whose  opinions  I  listen  to  will  not  be 
able  to  help  me  when  the  great  issues  of  my 
life  have  to  be  met.  In  death  and  judgment 
and  eternity  no  hand  can  help  but  His ;  no 
other  aid  can  avail. 

She  had  a  long  way  to  go  and  it  zvas  doiihtful 
if  she  wonld  ever  7'each  Jiini.  She  came,  we  read, 
from  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth.  It  was  a 
long  way,  a  strange  road,  beset  with  inconven- 
iences and  difficulties,  and  even  dangers.  But 
she  was  not  daunted,  she  was  not  to  be  turned 
aside.    She  had  made  up  her  mind,  and  she  went. 

Ah,  we  can  have  no  doubt.  To  us  success  is 
pledged.  "Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given;  seek, 
and  ye  shall  find ;  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened 
unto  you."  For  us  it  is  never  a  long  way  to  go. 
He  is  ever  nigh  at  hand  and  not  afar  off.  Let 
those  of  us  who  shrink  at  the  first  rebuff,  who 
yield  at  the  first  whisper  of  danger,  find  in  this 
woman's  example  a  new  courage.  It  should 
shame  us  into  resoluteness. 


THE    QUEEN   OF  SIIEBA.  45 

She  Jiad  no  invitation.  She  did  not  know  how 
he  might  receive  her.  These  great  kings  were 
jealous  of  strangers.  Upon  some  pretence  that 
she  came  to  spy  out  the  land  he  might  have  her 
seized  as  a  prisoner,  and  held  her  and  her  ser- 
vants to  be  ransomed  at  some  enormous  cost. 
Such  things  were  common  enough.  And  if  he 
received  her,  was  it  not  likely  that  he  would  look 
with  contempt  upon  her  }  Even  civilized  people 
like  the  Greeks  were  accustomed  to  regard  those 
as  barbarians  whose  language  and  ways  were 
foreign  to  themselves.  But  this  brave  woman 
will  risk  it  all,  and  with  a  splendid  courage,  the 
courage  of  a  woman,  the  courage  of  a  queen,  she 
comes. 

No  invitation  !  Ah,  did  ever  love  utter  such 
gracious  words,  did  ever  tenderness  breathe  a 
more  yearning  entreaty  than  that  which  He 
speaks  to  every  one  of  us  t  "  Come  unto  Me,  all 
ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy-laden,  and  I  will  give 
you  rest."  "  Him  that  cometh  unto  Me  I  will  in 
no  wise  cast  out."  He  Himself  hath  come  to 
lead  us  safely  on  our  way.  Behold,  behold,  I 
stand  at  the  door  a7td  knock.  If  any  man  hear 
My  voice,  and  open  the  door,  I  zuill  come  in,  and 
Slip  with  him,  and  he  zvith  Me.  We  know  what 
welcome  awaits  us.  Never  was  there  such 
graciousness,  never  such  helpfulness,  never  such 


46  THE   QUEEN  OF  SHEBA. 

love  as  His.  Never  doth  He  upbraid  us  for  our 
folly  ;  never  scorn  us  in  our  sin.  No  harshness 
overtaxes  our  poor  strength  for  goodness  ;  no 
splendid  ideal  thrusts  us  back  in  despair.  His 
gentleness  doth  make  us  great.  His  lament  and 
grief  are  that  we  do  not  come. 

She  came  seeking  wisdom,  and  seeking  it  after 
all  from  one  who  could  show  her  much  more 
than  he  could  give  her.  Wise  men  cannot  im- 
part their  wisdom  ;  rather  is  it  easier  for  them 
to  show  us  our  own  folly.  But  of  Him  to  whom 
we  may  come  it  is  written,  "  If  any  man  lack 
wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God  who  giveth  liberally 
and  upbraideth  not."  And  not  wisdom  only  is 
it  that  He  waits  to  bestow.  He  is  otir  life.  If 
He  be  indeed  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  if  there 
be  no  other  name  given  under  heaven  whereby 
men  can  be  saved,  then  does  everything  de- 
pend upon  our  coming  to  Him  and  our  accept- 
ance of  Him.  Here  is  our  peace,  our  hope, 
our  all. 

SJie  came  bringi7ig  rare  and  costly  presents. 
We  come  with  but  the  confession  of  our  sins, 
sins  that  have  wrought  the  shame  and  anguish 
of  our  Lord.  The  miserable  story  of  our  for- 
getfulness  and  faithlessness,  our  shameful  half- 
heartedness,  alas,  it  may  be,  our  denial  of  our 
Lord,  our  cruel  forsaking  of  Him.      No   gifts 


THE    QUEEN   OF  SHEBA.  47 

have  we,  no  gold  or  frankincense  with  which  to 
buy  His  favor,  no  grace  or  title  with  which  to 
claim  His  love.  Ah,  but  the  gifts  are  His  — 
He  bids  us  come,  wretched  and  miserable  and 
poor  and  blind  and  naked,  that  He  may  give  to 
us  the  pure  gold  and  the  white  raiment  and  the 
gift  of  sight.  And  all  this  is  ours  for  the  simple 
and  earnest  seeking. 

n. 

So  the  Queen  of  Sheba  has  come  to  see  King 
Solomon.  Let  us  first  think  of  the  glory  that  she 
beheld,  and  then  of  his  wisdom  that  she  heard. 

The  scene  of  her  coming  is  one  of  the  utmost 
splendor.  It  is  a  tribute  indeed  to  the  far- 
reaching  fame  of  Israel,  which  king  and  people 
alike  may  well  seek  to  turn  to  the  fullest  ac- 
count. At  the  city  gate  Solomon  comes  forth 
to  meet  the  queen  in  all  his  glory,  with  flashing 
crown  of  pure  gold,  and  royal  robes  of  costliest 
magnificence,  every  inch  a  king.  About  him 
are  the  great  officers  of  state  in  their  gorgeous 
apparel,  the  old  wise  counsellors,  the  chief  cap- 
tains of  his  army.  Everywhere  is  the  vast 
crowd  of  citizens,  thronging  every  house-roof 
and  city-wall,  and  clustering  on  every  point  of 
vantage.      The  music  of  his  singing  men  and 


48  THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA. 

singing  women  fills  the  air  with  glad  welcome. 
And  now  seated  at  his  side  in  the  chariot  of 
cedar  with  its  tapestried  curtains,  and  drawn  by 
the  horses  of  Egypt  all  richly  caparisoned  they 
go  on  their  way.  Solomon  points  out  to  her 
the  Temple  that  he  has  built  —  that  wonder  of 
the  world  —  and  the  Judgment  Hall,  and  many 
another  stately  edifice.  And  now  they  reach 
the  palace  with  its  luxurious  gardens  filled  with 
treasures  from  ^11  lands.  And,  seated  at  the 
great  banquet  which  the  king  has  prepared  in 
her  honor,  she  sees  his  wealth,  the  vastness  of 
his  possessions,  the  hosts  of  his  servants,  the 
cupbearers  at  his  side,  the  banqueting  hall,  itself 
a  marvel  of  splendor.  We  read,  ''There  was  no 
more  spirit  in  her"  ;  overwhelmed  by  the  sight 
of  such  boundless  wealth  and  the  vision  of  such 
glory,  she  cried,  "  Behold,  the  half  was  not  told 
7ne. 

Look  at  it  all,  and  ask  yourself.  What  of  it  ? 
As  we  watch  it  fades :  King  Solomon  and 
Queen  of  Sheba  and  palace  of  splendor  and 
hosts  of  attendants  are  gone,  faded  into  dust 
and  nothingness.  And  what  is  left  from  the 
sight  of  it }  There  comes  to  no  one  of  us  any 
inspiration.  There  is  no  uplifting,  no  new 
strength  for  goodness,  no  blessed  prompting 
to  be  true,  to  accept  life  with  a  braver  heart 


THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA.  49 

and  to  do  our  duty  with  a  cheerier  spirit.  How- 
dead  it  all  is  !  It  brings  with  it  no  touch  of 
added  nobleness.     Yes,  it  fades. 

Before  us  rises  another  scene.  Jesus  sits  in 
the  house  of  Simon  the  Pharisee.  It  is  a  long 
way  from  that  splendor ;  a  poor  entertainment 
is  this  indeed.  The  Lord  Jesus  cared  little  for 
show  or  etiquette,  but  He  set  a  great  store  by 
love.  And  here  there  is  none.  It  is  as  if  the 
host  had  said  within  himself  haughtily,  "  Is  not 
this  the  carpenter } "  and  counted  that  anything 
was  good  enough  for  the  lowly  Prophet  of  Naza- 
reth. We  hear  the  gentle  upbraiding,  "Thou 
gavest  Me  no  water  for  My  feet ;  thou  gavest 
Me  no  kiss  ;  My  head  thou  didst  not  anoint 
with  oil."  The  commonest  courtesies  of  hos- 
pitality were  withheld. 

And  now  at  the  door  amidst  the  crowd  that 
stood  and  looked  and  listened  —  for  privacy 
seems  a  thing  impossible  in  the  East  —  there 
came  a  woman  that  was  a  sinner,  well  known, 
too  well  indeed.  Men  gathered  their  robes  as 
they  passed  her,  lest  by  a  lightest  touch  she 
should  defile  them.  Go  forth  from  the  Queen 
of  Sheba  and  seek  the  one  who  is  furthest  away 
from  all  opportunity  of  entering  the  palace  of 
the  king,  and  all  hope  of  any  kindly  recognition, 
and  you  may  find  her  there. 


50  THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA. 

But  lo,  as  she  sees  the  scanty  preparations, 
the  cold  reception,  her  woman's  heart  is  made 
indignant.  "  Would  that  I  were  worthy  to  ask 
Him  beneath  my  roof ;  or  would  that  I  could 
bid  Him  come  and  sit  at  meat  with  me.  All 
that  I  have  were  His  to  minister  in  any  way 
to  His  comfort.  But  I,  alas,  am  so  far  down 
and  He  so  holy  —  there  is  no  chance  for  me." 
So  she  thinks. 

Then  lo,  that  Face  is  lifted,  the  eyes  meet 
hers.  He,  all-pitiful,  reading  her  heart,  looks 
an  invitation  that  she  cannot  resist.  And  there 
in  the  presence  of  the  Pharisees,  as  they  start 
with  horror,  every  man  shrinking  from  this  in- 
famous intruder,  every  face  filled  with  scorn, 
she  hurries  across  to  the  side  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
and  falls  at  His  feet.  She  pours  forth  her  peni- 
tence in  a  flood  of  tears,  then,  startled  that  she 
should  thus  have  bathed  His  feet,  she  loosens 
her  hair,  and  wipes  them  with  reverent  hands, 
and  tenderly  kissing  His  feet,  she  draws  from 
the  folds  of  her  dress  a  pot  of  unguent,  and 
pours  its  fragrance  upon  them.  And  Jesus  put 
His  arm  forth  and  laid  His  hand  tenderly  upon 
that  bowed  head,  as  if  her  Defender  and  Deliv- 
erer. And  He  said  unto  her,  Thy  sins  are  for- 
given thee.  And  within  that  leprous  soul  it 
was  as  if  there  sprang  up  a  new  life  all  sweet 


THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA.  51 

and  pure  and  fresh  and  beautiful  like  the  life 
of  a  little  child. 

TJiat  is  the  glory  of  the  Lord  Jesns  CJirist. 
He  cares  nothing  for  the  splendor  that  dazzles 
men.  He  cares  nothing  for  pomp  and  stately 
magnificence.  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords, 
yet  is  He  the  blessed  Friend  and  Brother  of  us 
all.  This  man  receivetJi  siimej^s,  and  eateth  with 
them.  To  draw  to  Himself  the  outcast  and  un- 
loved, to  bend  with  pity  over  the  sad  and  sinful 
heart,  to  heal  and  cleanse  and  uplift,  to  bring 
hope  to  the  soul  that  had  gone  down  in  despair, 
and  to  bring  the  dawn  of  heaven  —  that  is  the 
greatness  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

Look  again  upon  that  scene.  It  never  fades. 
A  new  pity,  a  new  hope,  a  new  power  for  good- 
ness comes  into  us  as  we  think  of  it.  Listen  to 
her  as  she  goes  forth  wondering  and  adoring, 
saying  within  herself,  *'  I  had  heard  indeed  that 
He  was  gracious  and  loving,  but  behold  the  half 
was  7iot  told  me!' 

Think  of  the  wisdom  with  which  Solomon 
met  the  Queen  of  Sheba.  We  can  easily  im- 
agine the  words  which  showed  his  skill  in  de- 
bate. There  doubtless  was  the  keen  wit,  the 
brilliant  saying,  the  shining  wisdom,  the  glow 
of  poetry,  the  genius  that  flashed  radiant  as  a 


52  THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA. 

diamond.  We  gladly  yield  these  gifts  our  ad- 
miration. Do  not  let  us  seem  for  one  moment 
to  belittle  them.  They  are  of  God  :  let  us  thank 
Him  for  them  wherever  they  are.  But  —  but  — 
I  come  away  from  it  all :  it  dies  like  the  glory 
vanished ;  words  however  true,  sentiments  how- 
ever sublime,  wisdom  however  vast,  what  do  they 
do  for  us }  We  have  it  on  the  shelves  of  our 
libraries,  and  we  honor  the  names  of  the  authors. 
But  how  far  away  it  is  !  and  how  little  after  all ! 
There  was  a  practice  of  medicine  once  that  pro- 
fessed to  cure  disease  by  consulting  the  stars. 
Whilst  the  poor  patient  fretted  and  moaned,  the 
learned  physician  was  studying  the  planets. 
Ah,  it  was  no  doubt  very  fine  and  very  grand 
to  have  a  physician  who  knew  so  much  and 
looked  so  high.  But  that  is  not  what  we  want. 
We  want  a  doctor  who  bends  over  us,  hushed 
and  eager,  who  knows  the  heart's  throb,  who 
knows  the  very  nerve  along  which  the  pain 
pulses,  and  himself  feels  all  our  weariness  and 
ache. 

Truth  is  not  the  truth  I  want  when  it  sparkles 
only  in  fine  sayings.  It  must  live  in  eyes  that 
look  upon  me,  in  hands  that  minister  to  me,  in  a 
heart  that  pities  and  loves  me.  Solomon  spoke 
the  truth,  but  Jesus  said  /  am  the  truth.  By  all 
means  let  us  listen  to  the  proverbs  of  Solomon. 


THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA.  53 

It  is  instructive  to  know  that  "the  legs  of  the 
lame  are  not  equal,"  and  interesting  to  think 
how  he  would  enforce  and  illustrate  the  truth. 
But  it  is  better  to  have  one  who  knows  it  with 
a  great  yearning  pity,  and  who  stretches  forth  a 
hand  of  almighty  help,  and  speaks  with  a  resist- 
less authority,  rise  up  and  zvalk,  and  sends  the 
lame  man  leaping  and  praising  God. 

We  turn  from  all  that  Solomon  spake,  and 
listen  to  our  blessed  Lord  as  He  saith,  **  Your 
heavenly  Father  careth  for  you."  We  see  Him 
stand  and  we  hear  Him  speak,  *'  Come  unto  Me, 
all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy-laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest.  Take  My  yoke  upon  you  and 
learn  of  Me,  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart, 
and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls."  Oh,  the 
music  lingers  with  us  and  soothes  and  hushes 
us,  and  strengthens  us,  and  as  through  the 
music  of  old  there  comes  upon  us  another 
spirit. 

We  hear  Him  tell  the  story  of  the  lost  sheep, 
and  the  lost  money,  and  the  story  of  the  prodi- 
gal son,  and  there  lives  a  new  hope,  the  dawn- 
ing of  a  new  day.  We  listen  to  that  sublime 
utterance,  "■  God  so  loved  the  world  that  He 
gave  His  only  begotten  Son  that  whosoever 
believeth  on  Him  should  not  perish,  but  have 
everlasting  life."     '*  Behold,  behold,  the  half  was 


54  THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA. 

not  told  me."  No  words  can  utter,  no  thoughts 
can  reach  to  that  of  which  we  have  to  tell.  The 
queen  of  the  south  may  have  sat  in  the  Judg- 
ment Hall,  startled  at  some  display  of  wisdom 
like  that  which  settled  the  dispute  between 
the  two  mothers.  But  never  did  she  dream  of 
wisdom  and  love  like  that  which  we  celebrate. 
Christ  hath  redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the 
law  being  made  a  curse  for  us.  He  gave  Him- 
self for  us,  the  Just  for  the  unjust,  that  He 
might  bring  us  to  God.  Slowly  let  those  amaz- 
ing words  sink  into  our  hearts.  The  Son  of  God 
Who  loved  me  and  gave  Himself  for  7ne.  Eter- 
nity itself  can  never  unfold  the  height  and  depth, 
the  length  and  breadth  of  that  love  which  passeth 
knowledge. 

Let  us  see  to  it  that  the  queen  of  the  south  do 
not  put  tis  to  shame  ajzd  rise  up  to  coiidem^i  us. 

She  communed  with  Solomon,  we  are  told,  of 
all  that  was  in  her  heart.  Simply  and  earnestly 
she  told  of  her  longings  for  her  people  and  of  the 
difficulties  that  beset  her.  She  communed  with 
him  of  the  mystery  of  life,  how  to  reach  the 
highest  and  best.  She  asked  him  of  many  a 
matter  that  had  perplexed  her.  Graciously  the 
king  listened  and  wisely  he  assured  her. 

Ah,  never  was  there  any  to  whom  we  can  tell 


THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA.  55 

all  the  heart  as  we  can  to  Him.  Withhold  from 
Him  no  want.  In  glad  communion  tell  Him  all 
that  is  in  thine  heart. 

She  gladly  acknowledged  the  truth  of  all  that 
she  had  heard.  It  was  a  true  report  that  I  Jieard 
ill  my  ozvu  land  of  thy  acts  a? id  of  thy  wisdom. 
Let  us  renew  our  faith  and  love  to  our  Lord. 
It  is  a  true  report  that  we  have  heard.  '*  This 
man  receiveth  sinners  and  eateth  with  them." 
"  He  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost  all  that 
come  unto  God  by  Him."  "Him  that  cometh 
unto  Me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out." 

Behold,  the  half  was  not  told  me.  Oh,  dull 
is  our  vision  and  unworthy  our  thought  of  our 
glorious  Lord,  unless  the  soul  do  find  in  Him 
its  fulness  of  joy.  The  past  forgiven  with  a 
great  full  forgiveness  that  has  for  ever  blotted 
it  out ;  the  future  pledged  to  us  with  ten  thou- 
sand exceeding  great  and  precious  promises ; 
that  almighty  power  ours  for  ever  and  ever, 
available  for  our  help.  How  can  we  rightly 
celebrate  love  like  His  } 

She  gave  Solomon  of  her  treasures.  Let  us 
bring  to  our  Lord  and  Saviour  all  the  love  of  the 
heart,  all  the  strength  of  our  service,  all  that  we 
have  and  are. 

She  received  of  his  bounty.  Let  us  claim 
boldly  that  which  the   King  of   Heaven  is  so 


56  THE    QUEEN  OF  SHEBA. 

glad  to  bestow.  His  upbraiding  is  that  we  seek 
so  little  at  His  hands.  Ask  and  7'eceive^  saith 
He,  that  yo2ir  joy  may  be  full. 

She  blessed  all  those  that  were  about  the 
king.  Let  our  heart  find  in  the  presence  of 
the  Lord  a  new  love  to  others,  a  delight  in 
blessing.  Let  old  jealousies  die,  they  have 
lived  a  great  deal  too  long,  —  slain  by  that  great 
love  wherewith  we  are  loved.  Think  with  a 
new  kindliness  of  those  against  whom  we  may 
have  been  prejudiced  and  bitter.  Breathe  a 
word  of  forgiveness.  Be  determined  to  seek 
reconciliation  to  those  whom  we  may  have 
offended.  The  true  communion  with  the  King 
cannot  be  ours  so  long  as  any  bolt  of  ill-will  is 
shot  across  the  door  of  the  heart. 

Then  she  departed  into  her  own  country. 
Away  from  the  splendid  presence  to  the  dreary 
wilderness  and  along  that  perilous  journey.  But 
our  joy  is  that  we  never  need  go  away.  We 
shall  never  wear  out  our  welcome,  never  ex- 
haust the  great  store  of  His  provision.  /  will 
dwell  hi  the  Jiouse  of  the  Lord  for  ever. 


V. 


NOBODY,  —  SOMEBODY,  —  EVERY- 
BODY. 

"  She  was  not  hid."  —  SL  Luke  viii,  47. 

Here  is  a  story  beautiful  as  it  is  blessed,  if 
only  by  God's  grace  it  is  told  as  it  should  be 
told,  — '■  the  story  of  how  nobody  became  some- 
body, and  how  somebody  became  everybody. 

First  then,  Nobody.  The  story  opens  with  a 
picture  of  a  woman  not  important  enough  to 
have  a  name.  Poor  and  feeble,  she  comes  be- 
fore us  thrust  hither  and  thither  in  a  crowd. 
And  if  you  want  to  be  nobody  and  to  know  it 
get  into  a  crowd.  Solitude  is  often  the  best 
company  —  for  real  and  utter  loneliness  you 
must  be  lost  in  a  crowd.  But  this  woman's 
loneliness  was  not  only  in  the  crowd,  it  was 
everywhere.  You  see,  she  was  a  woman ;  and 
that  of  itself  was  rather  a  dreadful  thing  until 
Jesus  came.  We  read  of  His  disciples  that  they 
marvelled  that  Jesus  should  talk  to  a  woman. 

57 


5  8       NOB  ODY—  SOMEB  ODY—E  VER  YB  OD  Y. 

One  of  their  reverend  Rabbis  had  declared  that 
it  was  better  to  burn  the  words  of  the  law  than 
to  teach  them  to  a  woman.  A  woman  was  for- 
bidden to  worship  God  in  the  same  court  as  her 
stately  lord  and  master. 

And  this  woman  was  enfeebled  by  twelve 
long  years  of  sickness.  Her  very  sickness  shut 
her  away  from  intercourse  with  others,  whilst  it 
dragged  down  all  her  energy  and  hope.  She 
was  poor,  wretchedly  poor.  "  She  had  spent 
all  her  living  upon  physicians,  neither  could  be 
healed  of  any."  Every  thought  of  herself  only 
thrust  her  further  away  from  help,  and  shut  her 
up  in  her  dreary  loneliness. 

The  very  sympathy  of  those  about  her  had 
spent  itself.  They  had  grown  so  used  to  seeing 
her  as  she  was,  that  they  had  ceased  to  think  of 
her  with  any  tenderness.  What  is  so  familiar 
cannot  continue  to  impress.  One  who  had  been 
ill  for  twelve  years  must  not  expect  to  be  pitied 
by  her  neighbors  ;  they  had  got  so  used  to  see- 
ing her  ill.  And  if  ever  she  felt  that  she  was 
nobody,  it  was  certainly  to-day.  The  great 
prophet  of  Nazareth  was  in  the  village,  passing 
her  very  door ;  yet  she  dared  not  ask  Him  to 
heal  her.  There  was  Jairus,  a  man  of  influence 
and  importance,  —  oh,  happy  maiden,  who  had 
such  a  father  to  speak  for  her.     And  yet  even 


NOBOD  V  —  SOMEBOD  V—  EVER  YB  OD  V.        59 

Jairus  had  fallen  at  the  feet  of  the  great  Prophet 
and  besought  Him  to  come  and  lay  His  hand 
upon  the  little  maiden.  What  room  then  was 
there  for  a  poor  feeble  body  such  as  she  is,  in 
the  presence  of  such  an  One  as  that  ? 

And  there  were  His  disciples  —  Peter  and 
John  and  James  and  Philip  and  Andrew  —  she 
dared  not  speak  to  one  of  them  to  get  their 
influence,  she  whom  the  law  pronounced  un- 
clean. Yet  like  a  guilty  creature  she  whis- 
pered, "  If  I  may  but  touch  the  hem  of  His 
garment,  I  shall  be  made  whole." 

Now  forth  she  ventures  into  the  crowd,  but 
her  case  is  worse  than  ever.  Borne  hither  and 
thither  by  the  surging  mob,  fearing  that  she 
will  be  trampled  underfoot  of  these  fierce  fel- 
lows that  press  on  every  side  —  poor  thing,  this 
is  no  place  for  her.  As  the  crowd  sweeps  past 
let  us  stay  a  moment  to  think  of  it  all. 

How  many  there  are  in  a  like  evil  case  who 
seem  to  have  everything  against  them,  who  are 
shut  off  from  all  help,  look  where  they  will. 
Around  them  there  are  only  hindrances  ;  within 
them  weakness,  and  worse  than  weakness.  Their 
struggles  have  left  them  in  despair.  They  look 
at  one  and  another,  and  think  how  gladly  they 
would  change  places  with  them,  just  as  this 
poor  woman  looked  on  Jairus  and  the  disciples. 


6o       NOBOD  Y—  SOMEBOD  Y—  E  VER  YBOD  Y. 

Some  people  seem  to  have  all  the  advantages ; 
and  some  seem  to  have  no  chance  at  all,  nothing 
but  failure  and  disappointment,  do  what  they 
will. 

But  now  let  us  turn  to  the  second  chapter  of 
our  story,  Somebody.  We  see  again  this  feeble 
woman  wasted  and  wearied  by  being  pushed 
and  hustled  to  and  fro  in  the  crowd,  all  unable 
to  hold  her  own  amongst  the  press.  Then  sud- 
denly some  happy  chance  brings  her  close  to 
Jesus.  Without  a  moment's  delay,  or  the  op- 
portunity will  be  lost,  she  thrusts  forth  a  trem- 
bling hand  and  touches  the  hem  of  His  garment. 
Instantly  she  feels  the  healing  virtue  flowing 
like  a  tide  of  new  life  within  her,  and  she  is 
whole. 

But  see,  Jesus  stops,  and  the  host  of  people 
stand  still.  What  is  it }  A  hush  of  wonder 
falls  upon  all  as  the  Lord  turns  Himself  about 
in  the  crowd  looking  for  some  one.  Is  He  not 
in  haste  to  get  to  the  house  of  the  ruler  to  heal 
the  little  maiden  ?  Why  then  this  delay  ?  And 
now  as  all  is  hushed.  He  asks,  ''Who  touched 
me.?" 

It  was  a  strange  question  to  ask  when  on 
every  side  the  great  crowd  had  been  surging 
about   Him.      All  wondered.      The  frightened 


NOB  OD  V—  SOMEB  ODY—E  VER  YB  ODY.       6 1 

woman  stood  with  downcast  eyes,  trembling 
from  head  to  foot,  hoping  she  would  be  over- 
looked. She  is  nothing  and  nobody ;  they  will 
not  suspect  her.  Then  Peter  remonstrates, 
"  Master,  the  people  throng  Thee  and  press 
Thee,  and  sayest  Thou  'Who  touched  Me.-*'" 
Jairus,  too,  must  have  ventured  to  look  the 
entreaty  that  perhaps  he  shrank  from  putting 
into  words,  "  Master,  never  mind  who  touched 
Thee ;  my  little  daughter  is  at  the  point  of 
death." 

But  Jesus  stands  still  looking  about  Him. 
'*  Somebody  —  somebody  hath  touched  Me."  So 
then  this  poor  nobody  was  somebody  now  ; 
somebody.  We  do  not  read  the  word  rightly  if 
we  think  of  it  as  having  any  touch  of  reproof,  — 
we  do  not  read  it  rightly  if  we  think  of  it  as 
spoken  in  a  tone  of  mere  curious  wonder.  It 
was  all  tenderness.  He  who  felt  the  touch  read 
with  infallible  love  all  that  it  meant.  "There 
is  a  poor  trembling  soul  here  afraid  to  ask  for 
healing.  Who  is  it  1  Somebody  has  touched 
Me."  ''  And  when  the  woman  saw  that  she  was 
not  hid  she  came  trembling  and  falling  down 
before  Him,  and  she  declared  unto  Him  for 
what  cause  she  had  touched  Him,  and  how  she 
was  healed  immediately."  Yes  she  is  somebody 
now. 


62        NOBOD  V—  SOMEBOD  V—  EVER  YBOD  Y. 

Everybody.  We  must  hurry  on  ;  the  story  is 
too  beautiful  to  break  it  here.  She  is  somebody 
now.  Look  at  her  at  His  feet  where  Jairus  had 
been,  she  the  poor  wasted  woman  in  the  place 
of  the  ruler  of  the  synagogue  !  As  they  stood, 
and  watched,  and  listened,  they  saw  Him,  the 
Almighty  Prophet,  lay  His  hands  upon  her  ten- 
derly, and  He  said,  "Daughter,"  —  no  more 
gracious  words  ever  fell  from  His  lips,  — 
"Daughter,  be  of  good  comfort."  It  fell  like 
healing  balm  upon  her  timid  soul.  It  quieted 
every  whisper  of  her  fear.  Well  might  they 
marvel  at  the  gracious  words  which  proceeded 
out  of  His  mouth.  "  Be  of  good  comfort ;  thy 
faith  hath  made  thee  whole.  Go  in  peace." 
Now  is  it  indeed  as  if  she  were  everybody  — 
thus  to  have  His  tender  recognition  of  her,  to 
hear  His  benediction,  to  feel  His  virtue  healing 
her,  to  have  the  blessing  of  His  touch  and  the 
sweetness  of  such  a  name  from  His  lips,  and  to 
go  away  as  into  an  atmosphere  that  He  has 
charmed  and  hallowed.  How  gladly  would  all 
that  host  change  places  with  her  now,  and  even 
Jairus,  the  ruler  of  the  synagogue,  might  well 
have  blessed  her,  for  by  that  miracle  of  healing 
his  faith  was  strengthened  to  expect  the  little 
maiden  from  the  dead.  This  is  what  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  has  come  to  do  for  every  one  of 


NOB  ODY—S  OMEB  ODY—E  VER  YB  ODY.       63 

US,  —  to  make  nobody  into  somebody,  to  take 
away  all  the  littleness  and  loneliness  and  empti- 
ness of  life,  and  to  fill  it  with  His  love. 

I  saw  it  all  beautifully  illustrated  once.  It  is 
some  years  since  that  I  happened  to  find  wan- 
dering aimlessly  along  the  street  a  lost  child  of 
some  three  years.  It  was  just  dazed  and  be- 
wildered. I  spoke  to  the  little  one,  but  it  only 
looked  at  me  with  great  sorrowful  eyes,  and 
shook  its  head.  *'  What  is  your  name  } "  said 
I,  "  and  where  do  you  live  }  "  But  never  a  word 
could  I  get  in  reply  —  only  that  look  of  unutter- 
able grief.  If  there  was  ever  a  nobody  in  the 
world,  here  was  one  —  a  lost  child  unable  to  tell 
its  name  or  its  home ! 

I  took  the  child  to  the  house  of  a  friend  near 
by,  and  telephoned  to  the  police  station.  Ah, 
it  was  somebody  then,  as  one  and  another  began 
to  ring  the  bell,  and  half  a  dozen  came  in  suc- 
cession to  ask  questions  about  it,  and  all  sorts 
of  police  arrangements  began  to  be  put  into 
use  for  it.  And  the  excitement  spread  as  they 
telephoned  to  another  office,  and  yet  another. 
"Come,  little  one,"  said  I,  "you  are  somebody 
now."  At  length  there  came  a  message  that  a 
woman  had  called  at  the  office  in  great  distress 
about  a  lost  child.  It  was  hers,  and  she  was 
coming  to  fetch  it.     At  last  I  heard  a  knock  at 


64       NOBOD  Y—  SOMEBODY—  E  VER  YBOD  Y. 

the  door,  and  myself  opened  it  with  the  child. 
Then  when  the  mother  took  the  little  one  with 
a  great  sob,  and  pressed  it  to  her  heart  with 
tearful  eyes,  and  kissed  it,  and  sat  down  over- 
whelmed with  gladness,  that  little  one  was  no 
longer  somebody  only — to  her  it  was  every- 
body. 

That  is  the  gospel  of  God.  A  love  that  finds 
us  out  one  by  one,  and  makes  us  feel  that  we 
are  not  hid.  Live  where  we  may,  be  what  we 
will,  that  great  love  finds  us.  The  love  of  God 
is  not  like  the  sun  in  the  heavens,  a  blaze  of 
splendor,  infinite  in  its  vastness,  but  far  above 
us ;  it  is  like  the  sun  whose  warmth  and  bless- 
ing creep  into  each  separate  flower,  fitting  it 
perfectly,  and  unfolding  its  fragrance  and  glory. 

Everything  about  the  Lord  Jesus,  everything 
that  He  said,  and  everything  that  He  did,  and 
everything  that  is  said  of  Him,  reveals  to  us 
this  separate  and  individual  love.  Nothing  else 
can  satisfy  us.  His  love  must  come  to  each  of 
us  by  ourselves  fitting  into  the  separate  charac- 
ter, helping  each  in  the  separate  needs,  dealing 
with  each  in  the  separate  circumstances ;  re- 
sponding to  ^ny  heart  and  giving  me  Himself. 

It  is  the  one  lost  sheep  that  the  Good  Shep- 
herd goes  tracking  out  into  the  wilderness  seek- 
ing diligently  until  He  find  it,  bending  over  it. 


NOBODY—  SOMEBODY—  EVERYBODY.        65 

laying  it  on  His  shoulder,  and  bringing  it  home 
with  rejoicing.  It  is  the  07ie  lost  piece  of  money 
for  which  a  candle  is  lighted,  and  the  house  is 
swept,  and  a  diligent  search  is  made,  and  it  is 
joyfully  recovered.  It  is  the  07ie  son  in  the  far 
country  for  whom  the  father  yearns  and  watches, 
and  whom  he  sees  afar  off,  and  when  he  sees 
him  runs  and  falls  upon  his  neck  and  kisses 
him. 

All  that  religion  really  means  is  a  separate 
personal  work,  or  it  is  nothing  at  all.  If  there 
is  to  be  any  conviction  of  sin,  it  must  be  a  work 
of  God  in  the  man's  own  soul.  If  there  is  to  be 
any  forgiveness,  it  must  be  spoken  distinctly  to 
my  very  heart,  '^  Thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee'' 

All  that  the  great  love  of  God  has  provided 
is  iox  yoiiy  as  if  there  were  none  to  share  it.  All 
that  Christ  ever  did  for  any  He  waits  to  do  for 
you.  All  that  the  love  of  God  can  bestow  of 
peace  and  joy  and  hope  His  love  holds  forth  for 
you.  This  one  word  sums  it  all  up,  '^  He  loved 
ME  a7id  gave  Himself  for  me.'' 


VI. 

THE  DOUBT   OF   THOMAS. 

"  But  Thomas,  one  of  the  twelve,  called  Didymus,  was  not  with 
them  when  Jesus  came.  The  other  disciples  therefore  said  unto 
him,  We  have  seen  the  Lord.  But  he  said  unto  them.  Except  I 
shall  see  in  his  hands  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  put  my  finger 
into  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  thrust  my  hand  into  his  side,  I 
will  not  believe. 

"  And  after  eight  days  again  his  disciples  were  within,  and 
Thomas  with  them :  then  came  Jesus,  the  doors  being  shut,  and 
stood  in  the  midst,  and  said,  Peace  be  unto  you.  Then  saith  he 
to  Thomas,  Reach  hither  thy  finger,  and  behold  my  hands;  and 
reach  hither  thy  hand,  and  thrust  it  into  my  side;  and  be  not 
faithless,  but  believing.  And  Thomas  answered  and  said  unto 
him.  My  Lord  and  my  God.  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Thomas,  be- 
cause thou  hast  seen  me,  thou  hast  believed :  blessed  are  they 
that  have  not  seen,  smdyet  have  believed."  —  St.  John  xx.  24-29. 

Thomas  the  doubter,  —  how  shall  we  think  of 
him  .?  Cold-hearted,  half  scornful,  refusing  to 
accept  anybody's  declaration  that  Jesus  Christ 
was  risen  }  Is  that  the  man,  —  stubbornly  cer- 
tain that  nothing  but  the  evidence  of  his  own 
senses  can  make  him  believe  it  .-*  Is  this  the 
meaning  of  his  words,  *'  Except  I  shall  see  in 
His  hands  the  print  of  the  nails  and  put  my 

66 


THE  DOUBT   OF   THOMAS.  6/ 

fingers  into  the  print  of  the  nails  and  thrust 
my  hand  into  His  side  I  will  not  believe"? 
Surely  it  is  a  sign  of  how  blind  our  reading  of 
the  Bible  is  that  with  us  doubt  is  only  intellect- 
ual —  a  thing  to  be  spoken  of  harshly  and  dealt 
with  severely. 

We  can  classify  the  doubters.  There  is  the 
indifferent  doubter  with  whom  all  matters  of  reli- 
gion are  of  so  little  importance  that  it  is  absurd 
to  claim  a  miracle  in  support  of  them,  espe- 
cially such  a  miracle  as  the  resurrection  of  Jesus 
Christ.  The  matter  is  dismissed  with  a  scorn- 
ful laugh.  There  is  the  conceited  doubter,  to 
whom  it  is  a  kind  of  a  superiority  to  question 
what  others  assert,  and  who  thinks  that  to  air 
one's  difference  from  those  around  us  is  a  sign 
of  independence.  Then  there  is  the  doubter 
that  only  talks  —  harping  upon  objections  and 
difficulties  that  it  has  never  felt  but  has  heard 
others  mention.  And  last  of  all  there  is  the 
honest  doubter,  to  whom  all  that  is  spiritual  is 
unknowable.  We  have  no  faculties  to  perceive 
it.  I  cannot  see  it,  nor  hear  it,  nor  can  any 
skill  of  science  reach  it  or  weigh  it  in  the 
balance,  and  therefore  it  is  rejected. 

But  surely  Thomas  is  not  represented  by 
either  of  these  classes.  He  knows  little  of  his 
own  heart  or  of  other  people's  who  thinks  when 


6S  The  doubt  of  thomas. 

he  is  among  these  that  he  is  touching  the  chief 
source  of  doubt,  where  all  of  us  have  something 
of  Thomas  in  us  and  some  of  us  a  great  deal. 

I  want  us  to  study  together  this  character, 
not  as  an  interesting  incident  of  scripture  his- 
tory, but  as  touching  our  own  innermost  life. 
Far  from  being  a  matter  of  reproof  there  is 
nothing  in  the  whole  story  of  the  resurrection 
more  pathetic  than  this  doubt  of  Thomas. 

L  The  very  character  of  TJi07nas  teaches  us 
that  faith  is  a  vitLcJi  Jiarder  tJmig  for  some  people 
than  it  is  for  others.  Thomas  was  a  slow,  diffi- 
dent man,  a  week  behind  the  rest  in  seeing 
everything.  Three  times  only  Thomas  speaks 
in  the  Gospels  and  each  time  it  is  with  a  sigh. 
There  is  a  dolefulness  in  the  tone,  a  shake  of 
the  head,  you  feel  the  despondency  of  the  man. 
The  first  is  when  Jesus,  under  sentence  of  death, 
had  gone  into  the  region  beyond  Jordan  for  a 
while  and  now  proposed  to  return  to  Jerusalem. 
The  disciples  seek  to  stay  Him,  saying,  ''Master, 
the  Jews  sought  to  stone  Thee,  and  goest  Thou 
thither  again  1 "  But  Thomas  turned  to  the 
disciples  and  said,  ''  Let  us  also  go  that  we 
may  die  with  Him."  The  next  time  is  when 
Jesus  talks  at  the  Last  Supper  with  His  disci- 
ples and  says,  **  Whither  I  go  ye  know  and  the 


THE  DOUBT   OF  THOMAS.  69 

way  ye  know."  Thomas  sadly  replies,  "Lord, 
we  know  not  whither  Thou  goest,  and  how  can 
we  know  the  way?"  The  third  time  he  speaks 
is  in  this  incident  of  the  resurrection.  You  will 
see  the  character  of  the  man  in  each  of  these 
speeches.  And  there  are  no  people  in  the 
world  who  need  to  be  more  tenderly  dealt  with 
than  those  slow  and  diffident  ones,  who  have 
always  been  at  a  disadvantage.  We  are  tender 
and  pitiful  to  the  defects  of  the  body.  We  do 
not  scold  the  blind  lad  because  he  cannot  .paint, 
and  we  cannot  be  hard  with  the  lame  boy  be- 
cause he  is  unable  to  run.  But  alas,  natural 
defects  of  character  have  neither  patience  nor 
pity,  and  they  need  both.  There  are  hosts  of 
such  people  about  us  to  whom  sunny  hope  and 
restful  faith  are  almost  impossible.  And  the 
natural  defect  is  made  a  hundred  times  worse 
by  the  way  in  which  those  slow  and  diffident 
ones  are  dealt  with  at  school  and  at  home. 
They  are  never  encouraged,  but  are  always 
measuring  themselves  and  being  measured  by 
the  more  captivating  and  brilliant  ones  about 
them.  We  laugh  at  the  father  who  said  that 
his  children  should  never  go  near  the  water  till 
they  could  swim,  but  we  often  deal  just  as  fool- 
ishly with  our  children.  We  keep  them  from 
any  confidence  in  themselves.     We  forbid  the 


yo  THE  DOUBT   OF  THOMAS. 

very  expression  of  opinion.  We  check  the  de- 
velopment of  their  life  in  its  individuality.  Life, 
you  know,  must  unfold  like  a  flower,  from  within. 
We  often  try  to  mould  it,  as  a  potter  moulds  the 
clay,  or  the  farmer's  wife  puts  her  stamp  upon 
the  butter.  One  said  to  me  with  a  sigh,  "  I 
could  have  done  anything  at  school  if  I  had 
only  been  encouraged,  but  nobody  ever  gave 
me  the  least  feeling  that  I  could  do  anything." 
Now  such  people  grow  up  diffident,  afraid  of 
themselves,  slow  to  accept  anything  with  con- 
fidence. They  can  do  nothing  else.  Faith  in 
anything  is  a  hard  matter  to  the  man  who  has 
never  been  encouraged  to  have  any  faith  in  him- 
self. To  some,  faith  is  as  easy,  as  simple,  as 
natural  as  breathing  is  to  a  healthy  child,  and 
to  some  it  is  a  gasp  and  an  effort  which  takes 
all  the  strength. 

Open  the  ear  of  the  heart,  timid  one,  and  let 
me,  by  God's  grace,  speak  to  you.  Our  most 
gracious  Lord  will  never  let  any  one  of  us  be  at 
a  disadvantage  because  of  the  peculiarity  of  our 
character.  He  who  made  us  to  differ  under- 
stands each  perfectly.  In  Him  is  the  perfect 
manhood  that  corresponds  to  us  every  one.  He 
will  ever  do  most  for  those  who  have  most  to 
hinder  them.     The   loveliest  words  that  earth 


THE  DOUBT   OF   THOMAS.  7 1 

has  ever  listened  to,  that  heaven  itself  ever 
heard,  are  spoken  to  you.  *'  Come  unto  Me  all 
ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy-laden,  and  I  will  give 
you  rest  .  .  .  learn  of  Me,  for  I  am  meek  and 
lowly  in  heart."  And  very  beautiful  is  Matthew 
Henry's  comment  upon  these  words.  "  Christ 
is  meek  and  can  have  compassion  on  those  who 
are  dull  and  slow.  He  is  lowly  in  heart  and 
condescends  to  teach  poor  scholars  an3  begin- 
ners." Would  it  not  have  been  almost  blessed 
to  have  been  blind  when  Christ  was  upon  the 
earth,  if  we  could  have  had  those  hands  laid 
upon  us,  and  looked  forth  out  of  darkness  into 
the  light  of  that  countenance,  and  is  it  not  good 
to  be  slow  and  diffident  if  so  we  may  know  the 
gentle  tenderness  and  sweet  patience  of  our  Lord 
and  Saviour }  He  hath  room  for  thee  amongst 
His  disciples,  room  for  thee  amongst  the  inner- 
most and  nearest  and  dearest  of  His  disciples. 

H.  See  another  aspect  of  this  doubt  as  we 
tttrn  fro'tn  the  character  of  tJie  man  to  the  story. 
Thomas  so  slow,  so  diffident,  so  apt  to  despond, 
has  found  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  with  all 
the  power  of  devotion,  with  the  simple,  single, 
whole-hearted  devotion  that  such  people  are 
capable  of  when  once  their  confidence  is  won,  he 
clings  to  the  Saviour.     "  Let  us  also  go  that  we 


72  THE  DOUBT   OF   THOMAS. 

may  die  with  Him  "  was  the  utterance  of  one 
ready  to  suffer  anything  for  His  Lord's  sake. 
And  now  that  Lord  has  gone  —  gone.  He  had 
heard  that  voice  speak  its  gracious  words  with 
such  authority.  He  had  seen  with  all  adoring 
wonder  the  goodness  and  tenderness  and  beauty 
of  the  Saviour.  He  had  looked  upon  the  mira- 
cles which  had  been  wrought  and  his  soul 
clave  to*  the  Lord  Jesus.  And  now  Christ  was 
dead. 

Do  you  wonder  that  Thomas  was  absent  at 
the  gathering  of  the  disciples  on  that  first  Sun- 
day after  Easter  t  I  do  not.  It  is  just  what  I 
should  expect.  This  man  has  said  in  his  soul, 
"No,  no,  how  can  we  meet  since  He  is  not 
there  t  How  can  we  talk  when  He  has  been 
crucified }  What  is  life  for  us  since  He  is  not  1 
Hope  has  gone  out  ;  faith  is  dead.  Would, 
would  that  I  had  died  with  Him."  The  crushed 
heart  cannot  gather  itself  together  again.  Mary, 
blinded  by  her  tears,  was  blessed  that  she  could 
weep.  Thomas  was  choked  by  his  grief.  It  is 
told  of  one  of  our  poets  that  at  the  death  of  his 
child  he  cried  fiercely,  *'  Never  will  I  risk  such 
anguish  again,  I  will  never  love  anything  any 
more."  Such  grief  refuses  to  be  comforted, 
feeling  it  an  outrage  to  hint  that  it  could  ever 
be  lightened  or  lessened.     For  such  a  loss,  for 


THE  DOUBT   OF   THOMAS.  73 

such  a  death,  the  only  thing  is  to  go  sorrowing 
down  to  the  grave.  The  heart  must  not,  dare 
not,  seek  any  healing. 

Thus  it  is  that  many  have  gone  into  the  gloom 
and  power  of  doubt.  There  has  come  an  hour 
in  their  lives  at  which  time  stood  still  and  be- 
yond which  they  could  not  move.  They  have 
gone  out  into  the  darkness  weeping  bitterly,  and 
they  did  not  want,  but  rather  dread,  the  cruel 
tone  of  comfort. 

There  yet  remains  that  which  more  than  all 
else,  probably  caused  the  doubt  of  Thomas,  as 
it  caused  the  doubt  of  God's  great  heroes,  Elijah 
and  John  the  Baptist. 

Turn  for  a  moment  to  Elijah  as  he  sits  in  the 
wilderness  under  the  juniper  tree,  after  the  three 
years  of  famine  for  which  he  had  prayed  that 
Israel  might  know  whence  their  mercies  came, 
after  the  challenge  of  Baal  and  the  slaughter  of 
their  priests,  after  Israel's  acknowledgment  of 
God  and  Ahab's  submission  to  Him,  was  all  to 
be  undone  because  of  this  Jezebel }  Was  she 
to  be  triumphant  1  Were  the  glory  and  the 
truth  of  Jehovah  and  the  destiny  of  Israel  to 
be  set  aside  by  this  heathen  woman  in  her 
pride  and  her  might }  What  then  was  the  good 
of  it  all  t     Why  had  he  lived  and  prayed  and 


74  THE  DOUBT   OF   THOMAS. 

spoken,  if  she  was  to  conquer?  And  Elijah, 
the  man  of  God,  pleaded  and  prayed  that  he 
might  die. 

Look  at  John  the  Baptist,  the  other  hero,  as 
he  paces  his  dungeon  like  a  caged  lion.  He  has 
thundered  at  the  adulterous  king,  "  It  is  not  law- 
ful for  thee  to  have  that  woman  to  thy  wife." 
He  may  lose  his  head  for  it,  but  what  of  that } 
With  him  the  only  question  is,  "  Where  is  the 
Christ  t  What  is  He  doing  t  "  This  mightier 
than  John,  —  healing  blind  men,  indeed,  cleans- 
ing lepers,  sitting  eating  and  drinking  with 
publicans  and  sinners !  And  all  the  time  this 
Herod  is  on  the  throne  with  this  Herodias  be- 
side him.  And  in  his  fierceness  of  indignation 
he  sends  two  of  his  disciples  to  demand,  "Art 
Thou  He  that  should  come,  or  do  we  look  for 
another } " 

This  it  was  that  filled  the  soul  of  Thomas  with 
doubt  as  it  fills  men's  hearts  with  doubt  to-day. 
If  heroes  like  Elijah  and  John  the  Baptist  won- 
dered at  the  triumph  of  ill,  what  marvel  if  that 
which  Thomas  had  seen  plunged  him  into  an 
agony  of  bewilderment  .■*  Christ,  the  pure  and 
blessed  one.  He  who  spake  such  words,  who 
wrought  such  works,  who  lived  such  a  life,  He 
who  had  such  power,  is  put  to  death  by  the 
spiteful  jealousies  of  those  rulers,  and  He  who 


THE  DOUBT   OF   THOMAS.  75 

was  all  goodness  and  love,  is  bound  and  beaten, 
spit  upon  and  scourged,  led  away  to  be  crucified 
with  thieves  !  Oh,  could  there  really  be  a  God 
in  heaven,  and  was  there  any  right,  any  truth, 
any  goodness  anywhere  ? 

So  comes  the  deepest  gloom  of  all.  We  feel 
it  to-day,  and  have  felt  it  during  the  months  of 
this  year  when  the  Christian  nations  of  Europe 
sit  amidst  their  armed  hosts  and  beside  their 
ships  of  war  afraid  to  move  although  the  Ar- 
menians are  outraged  and  butchered  by  the 
thousand. 

And  to  many  and  many  an  one  it  comes  in  this 
great  London.  Screened  from  the  knowledge 
of  ill  in  all  the  sanctity  of  a  Christian  home 
they  have  been  suddenly  compelled  to  face  the 
awful  facts  of  life.  Little  wonder  that  men  and 
women  are  maddened  at  the  sight  of  ill  all  un- 
checked and  uncondemned,  with  its  money  and 
its  might,  whilst  the  cry  of  its  victims  goes 
up  day  and  night,  little  children  and  wronged 
women  and  suffering  men.  Then,  at  such  a 
time,  the  hand  is  apt  to  let  go  its  hold,  the 
heart  sinks,  there  seems  to  be  no  help  any- 
where in  life,  no  light  in  heaven,  no  God  on 
earth. 

Let  us  turn  to  see  the  Lord  Jesus  dealing 
with  this  doubt.     First,   He  calls  him  by  his 


J 6  THE  DOUBT  OF  THOMAS. 

name  "Thomas."  So  the  Lord  Jesus  came  to 
Mary,  so  to  Simon.  The  Saviour  was  ever  all 
tenderness,  all  perfect  love,  yet  is  it  written  that 
He  was  made  perfect  by  suffering,  —  a  word 
indeed  mysterious,  but  still  it  could  not  be 
but  by  that  agony  and  by  His  deep  and  dread- 
ful sorrow,  and  by  that  appalling  loneliness 
there  should  come  even  to  Him  a  deepened 
sympathy.  His  words,  so  gracious  always,  were 
even  more  gracious  as  the  risen  Christ.  So  is 
it  that  He  comes  to  each  of  us  by  ourselves, 
separately,  calling  us  by  our  name  and  teaching 
us  to  say,  *'My  Lord  and  my  God."  It  is  by  a 
separate  act  of  dealing  with  each  of  us  and 
with  a  separate  revelation  of  Himself  that  Jesus 
Christ  makes  Himself  ours. 

Then  He  meets  Thomas  away  in  the  inner- 
most thought  of  His  heart.  "Thomas,  reach 
hither  thy  finger,  put  forth  thy  hand."  So 
must  His  word  often  meet  us  in  the  innermost 
heart.  And  so  must  we  see  Him,  and  to  com- 
mune with  Him  and  gaze  upon  those  wound- 
prints  is  our  deliverance.  These  are  His  sacred 
love  tokens,  the  great,  unchanging  assurance  of 
a  love  that  for  our  sake  has  conquered  every 
ill.  "  In  Him  we  have  redemption  through  His 
blood,  the  forgiveness  of  sins,"  and  in  Him  is 
the  assurance  that  let  things  be  dark  as  they 


THE  DOUBT  OF  THOMAS.  y^ 

may,  love  can  conquer.  Cunning  and  grief  and 
cruelty  are  not  the  forces  that  triumph.  After 
all,  the  risen  Christ  is  the  everlasting  proof  that 
only  goodness  lives.  Truth,  the  crucified,  is 
King,  and  He  must  reign  for  ever  and  ever. 


VII. 
CHRIST   SANCTIFYING    HIMSELF. 

"  For  their  sakes  I  sanctify  Myself  that  they  also  might  be 
sanctified  through  the  truth."  —  Si.  John  xvii.  19. 

Any  man  is  to  be  pitied,  surely,  who  tries  to 
preach  from  a  text  like  this. 

Have  you  ever  gone  with  a  party  led  by  a 
guide  to  some  mountain  height,  —  through 
a  defile  it  may  be,  then  out  of  the  gloom  to  a 
summit  where  all  the  great  beauty  burst  sud- 
denly before  you  —  the  sunny  mountains  that 
slope  down  to  the  waters  of  the  lake,  the  far-off 
peaks  rising  against  the  blue  sky .?  But  whilst 
you  stand  wrapped  in  awe,  wanting  to  be  still 
and  to  worship,  of  the  others  one  is  stooping  to 
pick  a  flower  that  might  be  found  anywhere ; 
another  is  chipping  off  a  stone  to  carry  away  as 
a  memento,  so  busy  about  the  stone  that  he 
loses  the  view.  Two  others  stand  with  their 
backs  turned  upon  it  all  discussing  some  stupid 
opinion  that  is  not  worth  the  breath  they  waste 

78 


CHRIST  SANCTIFYING  HIMSELF.  79 

over  it.  And  yet  another  pulls  out  his  watch 
and  wonders  how  long  they  will  stay. 

But  in  my  case  I  am  not  only  a  guide.  I  have, 
if  I  can,  to  reveal  to  you  the  great  heights  and 
depths  of  life's  possibilities  which  lie  within 
these  words,  to  bring  the  uplifting  of  the  soul 
that  ought  to  be  ours.  Pity  me  and  help  me  ;  I 
would  come  with  you,  longing  to  get  for  myself, 
and  that  each  may  get  for  himself,  something  of 
the  great  meaning  of  these  words  into  our  own 
hearts  and  lives. 

Let  us  think  of  Jesus  Christ  sanctifying  Hifn- 
self  for  our  sakes.  The  word  "sanctify"  here 
does  not  mean  what  we  understand  by  making 
holy,  —  Jesus  Christ  was  ever  holy.  He  alone, 
of  all  good  men  that  ever  lived,  never  confessed 
His  sin  and  never  asked  forgiveness.  Just  as  in 
the  Old  Testament  sundry  things  were  set  apart 
for  God's  use  and  service,  consecrated  by  being 
separated  for  God,  thus  Jesus  Christ  speaks  of 
Himself  here  as  sanctified.  "For  their  sakes  I 
set  Myself  apart,  I  devote  and  consecrate  My 
life,  I  hold  Myself  as  one  bound,  having  no 
choice,  surrendered  and  given  away  to  God's 
will  for  their  sakes." 

There  are  three  aspects  in  which  we  may  look 
at  this  life  of  surrender  to  the  will  of  God. 

Think  of  Christ  accepting  the  conditioji  of  titter 


80  CHRIST  SANCTIFYING  HIMSELF. 

depe7idejice  itpon  the  Father.  He,  who  was  Him- 
self one  with  God  Almighty,  for  our  sakes  enters 
upon  a  life  of  absolute  dependence  upon  the  care 
of  the  heavenly  Father.  For  our  sakes  He  is 
born  a  poor  babe  in  the  bosom  of  an  earthly 
mother.  Day  after  day  He  toiled  with  sweat  of 
brow  in  the  carpenter's  shop  that  He  might 
redeem  and  uplift  our  life,  ennobling  it,  and 
that  we  might  know  that  the  highest  life  of  God 
can  be  lived  in  the  lowliest  and  poorest  con- 
ditions. He  goes  forth  as  a  man  hungry  and 
homeless  that  He  may  be  one  with  us  in  our  want 
and  weakness  and  loneliness,  and  that  He  may 
teach  us  the  life  of  faith  in  the  heavenly  Father. 
Do  you  see  that  out  of  this  grew  the  tempta- 
tion that  met  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  at  every 
point }  Thus  comes  the  tempter  in  the  wilder- 
ness, "  If  Thou  be  the  Son  of  God  command 
that  these  stones  be  made  bread."  But  for  our 
sakes  He  stands  as  powerless  as  we  are,  as 
dependent  as  we  are,  one  with  us.  He  avails 
Himself  only  of  that  which  is  ours  as  much  as 
it  was  His,  — the  Word  of  God.  "  It  is  written, 
man  shall  not  live  by  bread  only,  but  by  every 
word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God." 
For  our  sakes  He  sets  Himself  apart  and  sur- 
renders Himself  utterly  to  a  life  of  dependence 
upon  the  Father. 


CHRIST  SANCTIFYING  HIMSELF.  8 1 

See,  again,  how  for  our  sakes  He  sets  Himself 
apart,  concealing  His  greatness  and  glory  that 
He  may  become  perfectly  one  zvith  ns. 

The  natural  dignities  of  the  Son  of  God  had 
to  be  hidden  from  us.     John,  the  beloved  dis- 
ciple, he  who  knew  the  Lord  more  intimately 
than  any  other,  —  he  who  saw  most  clearly  into 
the  depths  of  that  soul,  who  leaned  upon  the 
bosom  of  the  Lord,  tells  us  how  that  he  beheld 
the  glory  of  the  Son  of  God,  His  face  like  unto 
the   sun   in  his  strength,   His  eyes   like   unto 
flames  of  fire ;    and  John  fell  at   His  feet   as 
dead.     Thus   was   it  on  the   Mount  of  Trans- 
figuration, when  for  a  moment  the  innate  glory 
of  the  Son  of  God  shone  through  the  veil  that 
hid  it,  and  His  robes  were  white  and  glistering, 
and  again  His  face  was  like  the  sun,  and  again 
His  eyes  were  like  unto  flames  of  fire,  and  the 
disciples,  blinded  and  bewildered  by  such  splen- 
dor, hid   themselves,   afraid,  and   shrank   from 
that  excess  of  light.     Think  of  Him  then,  for 
our  sakes  setting  apart  His  glory  that  He  might 
become  our  blessed    Brother  and    Friend,  and 
that  all   might  draw  near  to   Him  and   be   at 
home  with  Him ;  sitting  down  with  lowly  fisher- 
men, welcoming  the  outcast,  gathering  to  Him- 
self the  little  children,  drawing  around  Him  all 
the  sad  and  needy  of  the  earth. 


82  CHRIST  SANCTIFYING  HIMSELF. 

Out  of  this  comes  the  other  great  temptation 
that  assails  Him.  "  If  Thou  be  the  Son  of  God, 
if  Thou  art  not  bound  by  these  laws  of  hu- 
manity, if  Thou  canst  dismay  and  bewilder  Thine 
enemies  by  the  manifestations  of  Thy  glory, 
put  forth  Thy  power,  assert  Thine  authority." 
Think  of  Him  as  He  stands  with  outstretched 
hand  rebuking  Peter,  there  in  the  shadow  of 
Gethsemane,  on  that  night,  the  full  moon  of  the 
Passover  high  in  the  heavens,  about  Him  the 
rough  crowd  gathered  with  swords  and  staves. 
Judas  has  betrayed  his  Lord  with  a  kiss,  and 
the  soldiers  step  forward  to  lay  their  hands  upon 
the  Saviour,  when  Peter  draws  his  sword  to 
fight  for  the  Lord.  "Thinkest  thou  not,"  said 
Jesus,  "  that  I  can  even  now  pray  to  the  Father, 
and  He  will  presently  give  Me  more  than  twelve 
legions  of  angels } "  But  He  sanctified  Him- 
self, setting  Himself  apart  for  our  sakes. 

Think,  again,  how  it  met  Him  on  the  Cross. 
From  out  the  crowd  that  gathered  about  the 
city  walls  there  rings  the  fierce  derision,  "  If 
Thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  come  down  from  the 
Cross."  Others  have  suffered  perhaps  as  cruel 
a  martyrdom,  others  have  hung  in  anguish, 
mocked  and  derided,  but  of  all  that  ever  went 
forth  to  die,  He  only  could  say,  "  I  lay  down 
My  life.     No  man  taketh  it  from  Me."     This  is 


CHRIST  SANCTIFYING  HIMSELF.  83 

the  glory  and  triumph  of  Christ,  that  conscious 
of  a  power  which  could  have  achieved  so  sublime 
and  instant  a  triumph  over  all  His  foes,  —  His 
cross  transformed  into  a  throne,  about  Him  all 
His  holy  angels,  and  He  seated  amidst  the  ter- 
rors of  judgment  summoning  these  His  mur- 
derers to  His  feet,  —  for  our  sakes  He  set 
Himself  apart  and  hung  upon  His  cross  and 
sunk  until  there  came  the  last  dreadful  cry,  "It 
is  finished." 

Then,  notice,  this  sanctification,  this  setting 
apart,  is  through  the  truth.  A  third  temptation 
assailed  Him  which  reveals  this  aspect.  The 
tempter,  baffled  thus  far,  drew  near  yet  again. 
"If  Thou  wilt  go  forth  with  all  these  human 
conditions  and  limitations,  there  is  a  short  and 
easy  path  by  which  Thou  canst  make  the  world 
Thine  own.  Behold  the  kingdoms  of  the  world 
and  all  their  glory.  They  are  mine.  They  shall 
be  Thine,  —  Thine,  to  fill  them  at  once  with 
peace  and  blessedness.  There  is  no  need  for 
the  cross,  no  need  for  its  shame  and  agony — - 
the  long  process  of  the  ages  in  which  Thy 
glories  shall  be  so  slowly  won,  and  at  such  cost, 
while  still  men  sin  and  sorrow,  and  still  there  is 
pain,  and  sickness,  and  burden,  and  dismay,  and 
heartbreak,  and  despair.     Thou  canst  full  well 


84  CHRIST  SANCTIFYING   HIMSEIF. 

deliver  the  world  now  and  here.  Thou  hast 
come  to  humble  Thyself;  Thou  hast  come  to 
make  Thyself  of  no  reputation,  and  to  take 
upon  Thyself  the  form  of  a  slave.  Spare  Thy- 
self that  public  agony,  that  prolonged  anguish. 
For  one  moment  only  acknowledge  my  author- 
ity ;  —  fall  down  and  worship  me,  and  the  world 
is  Thine." 

But  He  is  set  apart  by  the  truth,  girt  and  held 
by  it.  He  cannot  move  from  it,  cannot  speak  or 
act  apart  from  it.  "  It  is  written,  Thou  shalt 
worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  Him  only  shalt 
thou  serve."  Thus  for  our  sakes  He  sanctified 
Himself. 

Let  lis  go  on  to  consider  His  desire  for  our  sanc- 
tification.  Do  you  see  that  life  finds  its  very 
meaning  and  worth  in  this  surrender  of  ourselves 
for  the  sake  of  others  }  There  must  be  the  com- 
ing in  of  a  higher  motive  to  restrain  the  lower. 
The  thought  of  others  must  save  us  from  the 
selfish  promptings  of  life.  It  is  the  devoted  life 
that  is  the  expanded  and  enlarged  life.  We  must 
go  out  of  ourselves  to  possess  ourselves. 

I  happened  once  to  be  seated  in  the  train 
when  an  inspector  passed  with  a  very  pretty 
flower  in  his  buttonhole.  Presently  there  came 
along  a  drunken  fellow,  and  as  he  went  by  the 


CHRIST  SANCTIFYING  HIMSELF.  85 

inspector  he  snatched  at  the  flower  and  flung  it 
under  the  train.  I  watched  the  inspector's  face 
flush,  and  his  fist  was  clenched,  but  turning 
with  an  effort  he  went  on  his  way.  As  he 
passed  the  door  of  my  carriage  I  said,  **  You 
took  that  splendidly."  He  nodded  his  head, 
and  replied,  ^^  If  I  had  not  been  on  duty,  sir,  1 
would  have  knocked  his  head  off''  On  duty,  that 
is  what  one  wants,  the  incoming  of  another 
force  that  beats  back  and  restrains  the  angry 
promptings  of  one's  heart. 

A  Christian  is  always  on  duty.  I  carry  the 
glory  and  honor  of  my  Lord.  I  am  set  apart 
for  that,  and  that  must  not  suffer  at  my  hands. 

I  heard  some  time  since  of  an  oculist  who  was 
very  fond  of  cricket.  But  he  had  given  it  up, 
much  as  he  enjoyed  it,  for  he  found  that  it 
affected  the  delicacy  of  his  touch,  and  for  the 
sake  of  those  whom  he  sought  to  relieve  he 
sanctified  himself,  and  set  himself  apart.  That 
is  what  we  want, — that  there  shall  come  into 
our  lives  a  force  that  prompts  us  always  to  be 
at  our  best  and  readiest  for  service,  our  fullest 
and  richest  to  help,  a  tree  that  is  always  in  leaf, 
and  always  in  bloom,  and  always  laden  with  its 
fruit,  like  the  orange  tree,  where  the  beauty  of 
the  blossom  meets  with  its  fragrance  the  mellow 
glory  of  the  fruit. 


86  CHRIST  SANCTIFYING  HIMSELF. 

See  this  revealed  more  fully  and  more  beauti- 
fully still  where  the  life  is  yet  more  devoted  to 
another.  How  many  a  girl  one  has  known 
whose  life  has  been  empty,  frivolous,  a  weary 
round  of  distraction.  But  there  comes  the  de- 
votion of  love,  and  then  the  crowning  bliss  of 
motherhood.  Ah,  the  heights  and  depths  into 
which  that  life  expands,  the  sweet  solemnities 
and  sacredness  of  things,  the  great  glad  serious- 
ness in  that  surrender  for  the  little  one.  The 
life  is  sanctified,  set  apart  and  sacred.  The 
things  that  seemed  to  be  everything  are  for- 
gotten, and  all  that  seemed  aforetime  drudgery 
and  weariness  has  become  a  great  deep  satisfac- 
tion that  brims  for  ever  into  joy. 

And  the  fullest  life  of  all  and  the  richest  is 
ours  when  we  set  ourselves  apart  for  the  service 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  belong  to  Him,  sur- 
rendered through  and  through  us. 

Hoiv  then  viay  this  sanctification  be  ours  ? 
Listen  to  the  words  of  the  apostle,  in  which 
earth's  most  sacred  relationship  is  made  to  set 
forth  the  claims  of  the  Saviour  upon  us,  and 
His  desire  and  purpose  concerning  us.  "  Hus- 
bands, love  your  wives,  even  as  Christ  loved  the 
Church,  and  gave  Himself  for  it,  that  He  might 
sanctify  it  to  Himself."     Do  not  let  the  great 


CHRIST  SANCTIFYING  HIMSELF.  8/ 

salvation  of  Jesus  Christ  mean  less  to  us  than  it 
does  to  Him.  It  must  be  with  a  sense  of  grief 
that  He  sees  us  content  with  anything  less  than 
an  utter  surrender  to  Himself,  that  utter  sur- 
render of  ourselves  which  He  has  set  Himself 
to  accomplish. 

Can  you  think  of  some  schoolmistress  setting 
herself  to  win  the  hearts  of  the  children  about 
her  .''  One  child  is  exact  in  her  obedience,  pre- 
cise in  her  punctuality,  perfect  in  her  lessons, 
faultless  in  her  behavior,  rigidly  neat  in  her 
appearance,  but  it  is  all  the  outcome  of  cold 
duty.  Another  little  one  gives  herself  wholly 
to  her  mistress  with  a  love  that  can  separate 
nothing  from  the  thought  of  her ;  to  grieve  her 
is  agony,  to  please  her  is  joy ;  to  be  near  her 
is  the  fullest  payment  for  all  the  little  one 
can  do. 

It  is  not  enough  for  us  to  bring  to  the  Lord 
Jesus  the  precise  holding  of  a  creed  ;  the  formal 
observance  of  our  devotions,  rigid  and  unspar- 
ing ;  the  round  of  duties,  nothing  neglected  and 
nothing  undone.  His  love  can  only  rest  in  the 
glad  surrender  of  ourselves  to  Him  for  His  ser- 
vice with  all  the  joyful  captivity  of  love.  *'  The 
love  of  Christ  constrameth  me'^ 

And  yet  this  surrender  is  not  to  be  vague 
and   indefinite.     As  the  train  glides    along   so 


$8  CHRIST  SANCTIFYING  HIMSELF. 

easily  because  its  wheels  are  on  the  fixed  and 
rigid  iron  rails,  so  in  this  setting  apart  of  our- 
selves for  the  service  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
we  must  ever  get  on  the  lines  which  he  has  laid 
down.  First,  a  life  of  simple  dependence  upon 
the  will  of  God.  As  with  Him  so  with  us,  there 
must  be  a  happy  abandonment  of  ourselves  to  the 
Father's  care.  This  will  check  all  the  hungry 
over-eagerness  of  life,  all  that  keen  and  cruel 
competition  out  of  which  so  much  of  the  evil  of 
our  time  has  come;  it  will  destroy  envy  and 
covetousness  and  the  scornfulness  of  pride.  Set 
apart  for  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  our  lives  shall 
be  in  nothing  a  hindrance  nor  in  any  way  a  bur- 
den to  those  around  us. 

Then,  too,  we  are  to  surrender  ourselves  to 
Him  for  the  welfare  of  others,  even  as  He  set 
Himself  apart  for  us.  There  shall  be  no  soaring 
up  to  the  pinnacle  of  the  Temple,  whence  we 
look  down  from  the  lofty  heights  of  our  own 
goodness,  pitying  the  ignorant  or  scorning  the 
sinful.  There  are  two  ways  in  which  men  try 
to  do  good.  There  is  stooping  from  a  great 
height  with  a  large  show  of  condescension  to 
lift  people  up.  That  is  to  undo  far  more  than 
it  does.  And  there  is  the  simple  brotherliness 
that  becomes  part  of  the  life  about  us,  belong- 
ing to  it  and  seeking  in  every  way  simply  to 


CHRIST  SANCTIFYING  HIMSELF.  89 

bring  into  it  something  of  blessedness  and  help. 
When  Jesus  Christ  said,  "Ye  are  the  salt  of  the 
earth,"  He  did  not  mean  that  we  were  to  lie  in 
a  silver  salt-cellar  carefully  smoothed  over  and 
resenting  anything  that  ruffled  our  surfaces,  nor 
did  He  mean  that  we  were  to  give  ourselves 
away  in  mouthfuls,  as  some  people  give  good 
advice.  He  meant  that  we  are  to  lose  ourselves 
in  being  lightly  sprinkled,  so  as  to  keep  sweet 
and  make  savory  the  things  about  us. 

And  yet  once  more.  This  life  is  to  be  kept 
sanctified,  separate,  set  apart  by  the  tiiith.  It 
means  a  stern,  rigid,  unfaltering  loyalty  to  Jesus 
Christ.  We  think  of  the  truth  as  a  thing  that 
is  spoken  or  thought ;  Jesus  Christ  thought  of 
the  truth  as  a  thing  that  is  lived.  "  I  avt  the 
truth."  Sanctified  by  the  truth  means  this 
one  thing  —  to  be  true  to  Jesus  Christ.  The 
tempter  comes  proposing  perpetual  compromises 
to  spare  pain,  trouble,  worry ;  to  gain  by  some 
slight  sacrifice  of  right  a  quicker  victory  for 
good  ;  to  admit  a  little  of  the  questionable  in 
something  for  a  great  gain  in  everything. 
"Pass  this  by,"  says  the  tempter;  "acknowl- 
edge me  in  this  for  the  sake  of  the  good  that 
you  will  do."  Here  we  are  bound,  here  we 
have  no  choice.  Set  apart  and  held  by  every- 
thing that  is  most  sacred  in  God's  world,  we  are 


90  CHRIST  SANCTIFYING  HIMSELF. 

girt  with  a  tremendous  force  that  cannot  yield. 
This  must  it  mean  to  us  as  to  Him,  that  we  will 
face  all  shame  and  loss,  all  agony  and  death,  even 
the  death  of  the  cross  sooner  than  be  false  to 
Him  in  thought,  or  word,  or  deed. 

'^ For  their  sakes^'  said  Jesus  Christ.  ^^ For 
His  sake''  say  ive.  That  is  our  inspiration. 
The  life  of  complete  surrender  is  in  Him  and 
in  Him  alone.  To  know  Him,  to  commune 
with  Him,  to  rest  in  His  love,  to  have  and 
hold  it  as  our  own,  that  is  the  secret  of  the 
surrendered  life. 


VIII. 

THE  STORY  OF  A  ROYAL  PROCES- 
SION. 

I. 

"  And  Jesus  entered  and  passed  through  Jericho."  —  St. 
Luke  xix.  I. 

It  was  in  the  fair  city  of  Jericho,  gay  with 
its  palaces,  beautiful  with  its  palms  and  abun- 
dant growth  of  trees.  The  whole  place  was 
stirred  with  excitement.  The  company  of  those 
who  were  going  up  to  the  Passover  was  in 
itself  enough  to  make  much  ado,  but  the  excite- 
ment was  greatly  increased  by  the  presence  of 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Prophet  of  Nazareth,  whose 
fame  had  gone  through  all  the  land,  and  of 
whose  miracles  everybody  was  talking.  We 
read  in  the  eleventh  verse  of  the  universal 
expectation  that  the  Kingdom  of  God  should 
immediately  appear.  The  popular  belief  was 
that  this  Son  of  David  would  presently  sit  on 
David's  throne,  and  restore  again  the  Kingdom 

91 


92       THE   STORY  OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION. 

to  Israel,  —  that  indeed  Jesus  was  now  on  His 
way  to  claim  the  Kingdom  for  His  own. 

I  remember  to  have  read  that  when  Napoleon 
the  Great  was  on  his  way  to  Russia,  men, 
women,  and  children  stood  contentedly  for  days 
and  nights,  waiting  to  see  him  pass  along  his 
way ;  and  a  story  is  told  of  some  clergyman  in 
the  far  north  of  Scotland,  who  trudged  on  foot 
all  the  way  to  London  in  order  to  see  the  Duke 
of  Wellington,  and  when  he  had  seen  him  he 
quietly  thanked  God  and  trudged  home  again, 
counting  himself  well  rewarded.  We  can  under- 
stand then  the  eager  excitement  that  filled  Jeri- 
cho at  this  time.  Every  place  was  crowded ; 
everybody  who  could  manage  to  get  where  there 
was  a  chance  of  seeing  Him,  waited  for  Him. 
Look  forth  upon  the  crowd,  the  Scribes  and 
Pharisees,  the  groups  of  Roman  soldiers  dread- 
ing an  outbreak  of  this  turbulent  people,  eager 
women  lifting  their  little  ones,  rough  men  push- 
ing others  back  for  their  own  advantage.  See 
how  they  throng  the  housetops,  and  how  they 
cluster  and  crowd  along  the  walls,  while  the 
narrow  street  is  full  of  a  surging  host. 

Yet  of  all  these  who  have  come  forth  to  see 
Jestis,  twOy  and  tzvo  only,  shall  really  see  Him. 

It  is  of  these  two  that  I  would  tell,  the  one 
at  one  end  of  Jericho,  the  other  at  the  other 


THE   STORY  OF  A   ROYAL   PROCESSION.        93 

end ;  the  one  as  Jesus  went  in,  the  other  as  He 
went  out.  The  one  was  Bartimaeus,  and  the 
other  Zaccheus.  They  were  very  unlike,  the 
one  poor,  the  other  rich,  —  the  one  known  only 
as  a  beggar  to  be  pitied  and  helped  ;  the  other  a 
detested  publican,  hated  because  of  his  calling. 
But  they  were  alike  in  this,  the  difficulty  that 
they  had  in  seeing  Jesus.  For  Zaccheus  was 
short  of  stature  and  could  not  see  over  anybody's 
head  even  in  those  simple  times,  when  men  did 
not  wear  tall  hats  and  the  women  did  not  wear 
yet  taller  ones.  And  Bartimaeus  could  not  see 
at  all,  for  he  was  blind.  Now  of  all  men  who 
should  come  to  see  the  procession  these  surely 
were  the  last,  blind  Bartimaeus  and  little  Zac- 
cheus. Let  us  see  how  they  fare.  And  first  we 
turn  to  the  story  of  the  blind  beggar. 

At  the  gate  entering  into  Jericho,  the  crowd 
is  thickest.  The  stately  palms  and  balsam 
trees  that  give  the  place  its  wealth  stand  out 
against  the  white  walls  of  the  city.  And  every- 
where the  eye  falls  upon  hosts  of  people.  Look 
over  them  all  and  say  who  among  them  shall 
get  the  best  view.  Those  above  the  city  gate 
shall  look  down  upon  Him.  Those  on  the 
housetops  and  those  in  the  front  rank  of  the 
crowd  will  see  Him  well.     No,  not  those  shall 


94         THE   STORY   OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION. 

have  the  best  view.  Away  there  behind  all  the 
people  sits  a  blind  man  begging.  He  shall  come 
nearest  to  Jesus  and  he  shall  see  best. 

Now  Jesus  comes.  His  name  is  buzzed  by 
every  tongue,  the  excitement  grows  until  it 
bursts  forth  in  a  great  cry.  What  now  shall 
the  blind  man  do  t  There  are  two  things  that 
he  can  do,  and  everything  depends  on  which  of 
the  two  it  is. 

He  can  sit  there  and  sigh,  "  Oh  dear,  how 
dreadful  it  is  to  be  like  I  am !  I  do  wish  I 
could  see  Him,  but  I  am  blind,  and  if  I  tried  to 
get  to  Him  there  would  not  be  a  chance  in  a 
crowd  like  this.  I  have  nobody  to  lead  me,  and 
if  I  went  groping  along  I  should  only  get  el- 
bowed back  for  my  trouble,  and  if  I  got  into 
the  crowd  I  should  be  swept  hither  and  thither, 
and  very  likely  trodden  underfoot  and  killed. 
Alas,  there  is  no  chance  for  me." 

So  it  is  that  some  sit  to-day.  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth passeth  by.  The  Almighty  Saviour  is 
within  reach.  The  meaning  of  this  service,  like 
the  meaning  of  that  crowd  of  old,  is  that  the 
Almighty  Saviour  is  in  our  midst.  He  who  has 
helped  and  healed  and  blessed  ten  thousand 
thousand  souls  is  at  hand.  And  what  are  you 
doing  ?  Do  you  sit  thinking  of  your  hin- 
drances and  difficulties.?     "Ah  me,  I  am  blind, 


THE  STORY  OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION.        95 

blind ;  I  do  not  understand  these  things,  I  do 
not  know  how  to  get  to  Him,  and  if  I  tried  I 
should  be  sure  to  fail."  If  the  blind  man  had 
done  that  we  should  have  heard  nothing  about 
him,  that  is  certain.  What  is  the  other  thing 
he  can  do,  a7id  does  ?  "  Who  is  it  .-^  "  asked  the 
blind  man,  feeling  the  excitement  in  the  very 
air.  And  they  tell  him  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
passeth  by.  ''  What !  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the 
great  Prophet,  He  who  healed  the  blind  man 
and  cleansed  the  leper  "^  Then  why  should  I 
not  be  made  whole } "  And  instantly,  loud  above 
the  tumult  rings  the  cry,  "  Thou  Son  of  David, 
have  mercy  on  nie.'' 

Those  about  him  turn  angrily  upon  him, 
"Hold  thy  peace." 

"Whatever  for.?"  he  asks,  "When  He  was 
away  in  Jerusalem  I  might  be  quiet,  but  now, 
now  that  He  is  so  near  and  within  my  reach 
I  certainly  shall  not  hold  my  peace.  Only  a 
minute  or  two  and  He  will  be  gone.  Thoti  Son 
of  David,  have  mercy  on  me.'' 

"Tell  that  blind  beggar  to  be  quiet,"  say  a 
score  of  others. 

"  Ah,  it  is  all  very  well  for  you.  You  can 
see.  But  if  I  am  blind  I  may  well  ask  Him  for 
my  sight,  and  if  I  am  poor  there  is  the  more 
need  for  pity." 


g6         THE   STORY  OF  A   ROYAL   PROCESSION. 

*'  Hold  thy  noise.  He  is  busy  talking  to  the 
people  and  we  cannot  hear  Him." 

"Well,"  cried  the  sturdy  beggar,  ''you  can 
see  Him,  and  I  cannot  do  that.  Think  how 
much  I  am  losing.  Have  mercy,  have  mercy, 
Thou  Son  of  David." 

''Hold  thy  noise,"  says  another,  "thy  case  is 
hopeless,  a  man  so  old  as  thou  art  and  so  blind, 
what  is  the  good  of  thy  calling  after  Him } " 

"  If  He  saved  others  He  can  save  me.  Thou 
Son  of  David,  have  mercy  upon  me." 

He  coidd  do  nothing  but  cry  aloud.  The  leper 
could  come  springing  in  before  Him ;  the  poor 
woman  could  come  in  the  press  and  silently  take 
the  hem  of  the  garment ;  but  Bartimaeus  can 
only  lift  up  his  voice,  and  that  he  will  and  does. 
"Thou  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  upon  me." 
My  brother,  would  to  God  I  could  rouse  you  to 
do  as  he  did  of  old.  If  you  have  greater  needs 
than  others  then  you  surely  have  a  greater  claim. 
Say  within  yourself,  "  If  I  can  bring  nothing 
else  to  Jesus  I  can  come  with  a  cry  for  help." 
We  can  come  to  heaven's  gate  with  nothing 
better  than  such  an  appeal  for  pity. 

Look  at  him  again,  the  blind  beggar  sitting 
by  the  wayside.  WJiat  did  he  know  ?  Why,  he 
knew  that  he  was  blind  and  he  knew  that  Jesus 
was  passing  by.     That  was  all  and  that  was 


THE   STORY   OF  A   ROYAL   PROCESSION.        97 

enough.  Ah  !  how  little  knowledge  it  needs  to 
find  Jesus  if  only  the  heart  longs  after  Him. 
He  might  have  sat  there  perplexing  himself  as 
to  the  way  in  which  it  could  be  done,  saying, 
"  Until  I  understand  it  all  it  is  no  good  to  ask." 
No,  no,  his  business  was  but  to  cry  aloud,  the 
Son  of  David  knew  all  the  rest.  When  we 
have  an  all-wise  physician  to  deal  with  we  need 
not  trouble  ourselves  much  about  our  symptoms. 
See  Jiow  little  he  could  do.  He  could  but  ask 
for  what  he  wanted  and  he  could  take  what  was 
given  him.  He  was  a  beggar,  and  the  less  he 
could  do  the  better  he  could  beg.  Look  how 
little  he  had,  —  only  a  pair  of  blind  eyes  which 
he  turned  as  if  imploring  pity,  and  a  voice  that 
could  cry,  "Have  mercy,  have  mercy  upon  me." 
It  is  good  to  be  a  blind  beggar  when  the  King 
goes  by.  It  is  good  to  be  a  blind  beggar  when 
the  Almighty  Saviour  is  at  hand.  His  want  is 
his  wealth ;  his  need  is  his  plea.  He  had  room 
for  the  Saviour's  help  and  the  Saviour's  healing. 
And  that  is  all  he  needs. 

And  now  let  us  turn  to  see  how  the  blind  man 
fared.  Jesus  stood  still.  What  a  moment  was 
this  in  which  to  arrest  the  steps  of  the  King  of 
Glory !  Read  what  is  written  just  before  this 
incident.  "  And  they  were  in  the  way  going  up 
to  Jerusalem,  and  Jesus  went  before  them,  and 

H 


98         THE  STORY  OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION. 

they  were  amazed,  and  as  they  followed  they 
were  afraid,  and  He  took  again  the  twelve  and 
began  to  tell  them  what  things  should  happen 
unto  Him,  saying.  Behold,  we  go  up  to  Jeru- 
salem, and  the  Son  of  Man  shall  be  delivered 
unto  the  chief  priests  and  unto  the  scribes,  and 
they  shall  condemn  Him  to  death,  and  shall  de- 
liver Him  unto  the  Gentiles :  and  they  shall 
mock  Him,  and  shall  scourge  Him  and  shall 
spit  upon  Him  and  shall  kill  Him!"  If  ever 
there  was  a  time  when  the  Lord  Jesus  might 
have  been  all  taken  up  in  His  own  grief  it  was 
now,  crushed  by  the  thought  of  such  agony  as 
that  which  awaited  Him  and  such  as  none  else 
had  ever  known.  But  lo,  the  blind  man's  cry 
reaches  His  ear,  and  instantly  all  else  is  for- 
gotten. All  the  soul  of  Christ  yearns  to  pity 
and  heal  him.  What  then  waits  for  us  as  we 
come  to  Him  now,  since  He  has  entered  into  His 
glory,  now  that  He  is  able  to  save  to  the  utter- 
most all  that  come  to  God  by  Him,  now  when 
He  is  seated  on  the  right  hand  of  the  Majesty 
on  High,  having  leisure  to  listen  to  the  cry  and 
all  power  to  help. 

''And  he  comniaiided  him  to  be  called''  Think 
of  all  that  royal  procession  kept  waiting  over 
the  needs  of  a  blind  beggar !  The  name  of 
Bartimaeus  is  on   everybody's  lips.     All  those 


THE   STORY   OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION.        99 

who  had  reproved  hmi  are  now  quite  eager  to 
have  the  honor  of  helping  him.  A  score  of 
hands  are  stretched  out  and  a  score  of  voices 
cry,  **  Be  of  good  cheer,  He  calleth  thee."  Bar- 
timaeus  is  the  most  important  person  in  Jericho 
now.  When  Jesus  Christ  is  for  us  it  matters 
very  Httle  how  many  may  be  against  us.  When 
He  is  ours  we  are  always  in  the  majority,  and 
He  can  quickly  turn  the  hearts  of  those  about 
us  to  befriend  and  bless  us.  Thus  led  on  his 
way  by  quite  a  little  crowd  of  helpers,  every- 
body falling  back  before  him  as  if  he  had  been 
a  prince,  the  blind  man  stands  face  to  face  with 
the  Lord. 

And  Jesus  said,  What  wilt  thoic  that  I  should 
do  tinto  thee?  Look  at  it,  the  blind  beggar 
and  the  very  King  of  Glory,  and  lo,  the  King 
doth  set  all  the  wisdom  and  love  and  power  of 
God  at  the  disposal  of  the  beggar.  "  Lord," 
cried  the  blind  man,  ''that  I  should  receive  my 
sight."  Here  is  the  man  who  had  the  best 
view.  The  others  saw  it  only,  but  the  blind 
man  felt  those  blessed  fingers  laid  upon  his 
eyes.  The  others  heard  it  only  as  if  from 
without.  He  drank  the  rapturous  music  into  his 
soul,  "  Be  open,"  and  there  flashed  before  him 
the  glorious  vision  of  the  Lord.  *'  Go  thy  way," 
saith  Jesus,  "Thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole." 


100       THE   STORY   OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION. 

That  is  the  Gospel  for  us  every  one.  If  it 
means  anything  at  all,  it  means  that  Jesus  Christ 
has  come  into  the  world  to  do  impossible  things. 
Think  you  the  Son  of  God  should  come  into 
our  midst  and  take  upon  Himself  our  need  and 
reveal  Himself  as  our  Brother  unless  it  were  to 
undo  our  curse  and  misery  }  What  should  He 
do  with  that  Almighty  power  if  it  be  not  to  help 
those  who  need  helping  and  who  seek  it  at  His 
hands,  — to  cast  out  the  devils  of  drink  and  lust 
and  pride,  — to  heal  broken  hearts  and  to  mend 
ruined  homes,  —  to  bring  to  blind  souls  the 
vision  of  God's  glory  and  beauty,  —  to  bestow 
upon  us  the  joy  of  reconciliation  with  God,  the 
past  forgiven  and  the  future  lit  up  with  the 
promise  of  eternal  blessedness  ? 

The  Gospel  of  God  means  that  or  it  means 
nothing  and  less  than  nothing.  If  it  is  a  thing 
of  words  and  names  and  creeds,  a  mere  text  for 
endless  sermons,  let  it  go.  Life  is  too  real,  too 
short,  too  tragic,  too  miserable,  too  awful  for 
such  trifling.  And  if  there  be  within  reach  a 
power  that  can  bring  into  our  lives  true  good- 
ness, the  strength  and  blessedness  of  a  great 
love,  —  if  all  this  is  to  be  had  for  the  simple 
earnest  seeking,  shall  we  not  lift  up  our  hearts, 
blind  though  we  be  and  helpless,  crying,  "  Thou 
Son  of  David,  have  mercy  upon  me  "  ? 


THE   STORY   OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION.      10 1 


II. 

Let  us  continue  the  story  of  the  royal  pro- 
cession. Again  we  must  set  before  ourselves 
the  scene  of  the  busy  city,  with  hosts  of  eager 
people  crowding  the  housetops  and  thronging 
all  the  road  in  order  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  Jesus 
Christ.  We  have  followed  the  fortune  of  the 
blind  man  who  sat  at  the  entrance  to  Jericho 
and  have  seen  how  well  he  fared.  Now  we 
turn  to  the  man  short  of  stature,  Zaccheus  the 
publican. 

First,  let  tis  listen  to  what  the  Pharisees  say  of 
him.  They  have  not  a  good  word  for  him.  A 
man  that  is  a  sinner,  the  sinner,  the  worst  in  all 
Jericho. 

There  are  four  things  that  we  know  about 
Zaccheus,  and  each  of  the  four  help  to  make  his 
case  more  desperate.  He  was  a  publican.  He 
was  the  chief  of  the  publicans.  He  was  rich. 
And  last  of  all,  he  was  little.  Now  it  was  quite 
bad  enough  to  be  a  publican.  That,  to  begin 
with,  was  as  bad  as  anybody  need  be.  Even 
with  us  the  rate  collector  is  not  the  most  wel- 
come person  who  comes  to  the  door,  and  the 
most  charitable   of   us    does    not    consider  the 


102       THE   STORY  OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION. 

authorities  who  manage  these  matters  the  most 
considerate  persons  in  the  world ;  and  with  us, 
where  such  things  are  carefully  watched  and 
justly  administered,  there  is  often  a  too  ready 
advantage  taken  of  simple  people.  But  it  is 
impossible  for  us  to  understand  the  feeling  of 
the  nation  towards  these  tax-gatherers  of  old. 

Imagine  for  a  moment,  although  it  take  more 
imagination  than  most  Englishmen  possess,  — 
imagine  us  conquered  by  a  foreign  power,  France 
or  Germany,  and  the  taxes  are  bought  for  a  cer- 
tain sum,  and  those  who  bought  them  are  at 
liberty  to  charge  what  they  can  get  on  every- 
thing, and  if  you  refuse  to  pay,  you  are  led  before 
a  representative  of  this  foreign  power,  and  will 
probably  be  punished  in  such  a  way  as  shall 
encourage  others  to  pay  without  demur  what- 
ever was  demanded.  And  the  money  thus  raised 
was  used  in  keeping  up  the  yoke  of  the  detested 
conqueror.  A  man  who  could  take  such  a  post 
was  accounted  by  the  proud  Pharisees  as  the 
very  chief  of  sinners,  accursed  of  God  and  man. 
They  shrank  from  touching  such  a  man.  They 
would  not  go  into  his  house,  nor  would  they 
suffer  him  to  come  into  theirs.  His  pres- 
ence was  a  defilement.  They  always  classed 
together  publicans  and  sinners.  The  outcast 
woman  was  amongst  women  what  the  publican 


THE   STORY  OF  A   ROYAL   PROCESSION.      103 

was  amongst  men.  And  this  Zaccheus  was  the 
chief  of  the  pubUcans,  —  by  his  very  prominence 
drawing  upon  himself  the  greater  hatred  and 
contempt. 

And  he  was  rich.  Everybody  saw  in  his 
wealth  the  proof  of  his  iniquity  and  of  their  own 
wrongs.  And  to  crown  and  complete  it  all,  he 
was  little.  It  is  very  curious  how  much  morality 
there  is  in  stature.  I  have  noticed  scores  of 
times  that  a  great  man  may  do  what  a  little  man 
must  not.  To  be  called  a  "great  scoundrel"  is 
rather  a  distinction.  The  uttermost  term  of 
contempt  and  scorn  is  in  the  phrase  A  little 
scoundrel. 

This  then  is  the  man  of  whom,  when  the 
Pharisees  condescend  to  speak  at  all,  they  hiss 
out  the  words,  "  He  is  a  sinner,"  as  if  there 
were  not  another  in  Jericho,  and  when  they 
wanted  to  commend  themselves  to  Heaven,  with 
haughty  strut  and  spotless  robes,  they  lifted  up 
their  eyes  and  thanked  God  that  they  were  not 
as  other  men,  —  not  as  this  Zaccheus.  Poor 
Zaccheus,  we  do  not  wonder  that  he  tried  so 
long  to  see  Jesus  and  could  not.  The  words 
mean  that  he  kept  trying  to  see  Him,  but  every 
time  he  came  near  the  crowd  everybody  thought 
he  owed  him  a  grudge  and  elbowed  him  back 
and  thrust  him  aside.     It  is  wonderful  how  little 


104      ^-^-^   STORY   OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION. 

people  keep  getting  in  everybody's  way.  Big 
people  never  do,  you  know. 

Now  let  us  turn  to  see  what  we  tnay  think  of 
this  7naii.  I  am  afraid  it  shows  how  much  of  the 
Pharisee  there  is  in  us  that  we  are  so  ready  to 
accept  their  opinion  of  him.  But  the  publican 
was  not  necessarily  a  scoundrel  and  a  traitor. 
Do  you  remember  that  once  as  Jesus  passed 
along  His  way  in  Capernaum  by  the  little 
harbor  amidst  the  boats  and  fishermen,  there 
sat  one  busied  with  the  tolls  as  the  goods  passed 
on  their  way,  watchful,  careful,  exact,  receiving 
and  duly  recording  what  was  required }  And 
as  Jesus  passed  him  He  laid  His  hand  upon  this 
man's  shoulder,  and  said,  "  Follow  Me,"  and 
henceforth  among  the  twelve  we  find  Matthew 
the  publican.  And  it  is  perhaps  due  to  his 
clerkly  habits  as  publican  that  we  ow^e  the 
earliest  of  the  Gospels,  the  Gospel  according  to 
St.  Matthew  the  publican.  At  the  great  feast 
which  Matthew  gave  in  honor  of  Jesus,  ''be- 
hold, many  publicans  and  sinners  came  and  sat 
down  with  His  disciples."  And  Jesus  was  much 
more  at  home  there  than  He  ever  was  in  the 
houses  of  the  Pharisees.  So  we  can  begin  to 
think  better  of  this  publican. 

And  more  than  that.  Look  at  this  Zaccheus 
again.     Listen  to  him.     I  am  not  sure  that  we 


THE   STORY  OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION.      105 

have  not  seen  him  before.  I  am  not  sure  that 
we  have  not  heard  his  voice  sometime  ago.  Do 
you  remember  that  when  John  was  baptizing  in 
this  neighborhood,  amongst  those  who  came  at 
the  summons  of  the  Baptist  to  repent  and  pre- 
pare for  the  Kingdom  of  God,  there  was  a  com- 
pany of  pubhcans }  Amongst  that  company  I 
think  I  see  one,  short  of  stature,  right  in  the 
front,  here,  as  ever,  eager,  energetic,  deter- 
mined. He  who  was  so  resolved  to  see  Jesus 
was  equally  resolved  aforetime  to  see  John. 
And  now  one  speaks  for  the  others.  Listen,  is 
it  not  the  voice  of  Zaccheus  their  chief  }  ''  Mas- 
ter, what  shall  zve  do  .''  "  What  is  the  answer } 
Does  the  prophet  of  fire  turn  upon  them  with 
looks  of  anger,  and  does  he  thunder  sternly, 
*'  Apostates,  traitors,  thieves,  who  hath  warned 
you  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  !  Leave 
your  miserable  calling  and  enter  it  no  more." 
Not  at  all.  He  bade  them  go  back  to  their  call- 
ing and  work  at  it,  and  only  be  careful  to  exact 
no  more  than  their  due.  That  day,  I  think,  one 
man  went  on  his  way  resolving  that  henceforth 
that  should  be  the  rule  of  his  life,  and  he  did  it, 
and  more, — how  much  more  there  was  only  one 
man  in  Jericho  who  knew.  Hear  what  he  has 
to  say,  for  he  knows  most  about  it,  and  has  a 
right  to  speak.     "  Zaccheus  gives  half  of   his 


I06      THE   STORY  OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION. 

goods  to  the  poor,"  says  he,  "and  if  he  ever 
wrongs  any  man  he  takes  care  to  restore  him 
fourfold." 

And  this  is  the  man  they  call  a  sinner  and  a 
scoundrel.  Ah,  happy  Zaccheus  !  Whilst  these 
Pharisees  had  a  round  of  religious  worship,  long 
prayers  and  trumpeted  alms  and  stately  strut 
and  precise  letter  of  the  law,  here  was  a  man 
who  went  down  and  lived  a  right  life.  They 
boasted  that  they  gave  a  tenth  of  their  goods 
(would  that  most  of  us  were  Pharisees  in  that 
respect !).  This  man  gave  a  half.  They  thanked 
God  that  they  were  not  as  this  pubhcan.  It 
would  have  been  a  blessed  thing  for  them  if 
they  had  been.  Happy  Zaccheus  !  He  did  not 
carry  his  religion  in  his  tones.  So  many  people 
do.  He  did  not  carry  his  religion  in  his  looks. 
It  is  all  so  many  people  have.  He  did  not  carry 
his  religion  in  his  clothes.  How  much  of  our 
religion  lies  in  our  Sunday  clothes  !  This  man's 
religion  ran  right  through  his  dealings  with  his 
brother  man,  ran  into  everything,  purging  it  and 
purifying  it  and  hallowing  it  all  into  the  service 
and  worship  of  God. 

Nothing  is  commoner,  and  nothing  is  more 
miserable  than  to  make  religion  into  a  matter  of 
beliefs,  of  days,  of  creeds,  and  churches.  Days, 
creeds,  churches,  beliefs,  services,  are  no  good 


THE   STORY   OF  A   ROYAL   PROCESSION.      10/ 

under  heaven  unless  they  strengthen  us  for  the 
service  of  God  right  through  the  whole  of  the 
life  work.  And  yet  these  Pharisees  had  no  room 
for  Zaccheus  in  the  church,  and  they  had  no 
room  for  him  in  their  charity.  They  hissed  out 
"sinner,"  —  and  if  there  were  a  saint  in  Jericho 
that  day  it  was  Zaccheus.  He  was  a  whole 
heaven  above  them  in  all  that  was  real  and  true 
and  good  and  Godlike. 

Alas,  it  is  so  easy  for  us  to  be  like  them, — to 
make  religion  a  thing  of  services  and  creeds  and 
days  and  places,  and  then  to  crush  with  hard 
words  and  bitter  looks  those  who  do  not  agree 
with  us.  Blind  leaders  of  the  blind  !  Alas,  how 
often  poor  Zaccheus  goes  on  his  way,  shunned 
and  shrunk  from,  and  it  is  we  who  ought  to  be 
ashamed  and  confounded,  if  we  could  see  things 
rightly.  There  are  fireplaces  that  send  all  the 
heat  roaring  up  the  chimney,  and  never  have  any 
to  spare  to  warm  any  poor  body's  hands,  or  to 
boil  any  poor  body's  kettle,  or  to  bake  any  poor 
body's  bread.  So  fervently  religious  on  Sun- 
days, flaming  up  to  heaven,  and  then,  what  .-* 
My  dear  sir,  you  tell  me  how  to  pray.  But  tell 
me  how  you  speak  to  the  little  children.  That  is 
the  measure  of  your  religion.  You  tell  me  where 
you  go  on  Sundays.  Tell  me  how  you  are  at 
the  desk  or  in  the  workshop  on  the  Monday. 


I08      THE   STORY  OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION. 

Is  the  servant  faithful,  and  the  master  as  care- 
ful about  the  interests  of  others  as  he  is  of  his 
own  ?  Who  cares  for  the  Sunday  worship  if  he 
who  kneels  in  church  goes  home  to  be  proud, 
harsh,  exacting,  ill-tempered  ?  The  religion  of 
Sunday  is  an  empty  sham  and  a  rottenness, 
unless  it  helps  us  through  the  seven  days  of 
the  week  to  be  simple,  self-forgetful,  brave,  true, 
brotherly,  glad  to  help  anybody  anywhere. 

And  this  is  the  man  they  called  a  sinner ! 
Poor  Zaccheus,  he  is  living  still.  There  are 
thousands  in  his  place.  It  is  the  doubt  and 
scorn  of  us  religious  people  that  make  it  often 
so  hard  for  many  to  be  good.  We  are  always 
trying  to  bring  men  to  a  sense  of  sin.  Workers 
amongst  the  people  will  tell  you  that  their  great 
endeavor  is  to  bring  in  a  breath  of  hope,  a  trem- 
bling bit  of  confidence.  We  think  that  we  must 
ever  preach  the  depravity  of  humanity.  Do  you 
see  how  glad  the  Lord  Jesus  was  to  perceive 
and  commend  everything  that  was  good  t  "  Oh 
woman,  great  is  thy  faith."  "Her  sins,  which 
are  many,  are  forgiven  her,  for  she  hath  loved 
much."  The  memorial  of  the  alabaster  box  is 
to  live  as  long  as  men  read  of  Jesus,  and  the 
two  mites  of  the  poor  widow  is  that  which  He 
calls  His  disciples  to  look  at  and  admire.  Oh, 
for  eyes  to  see  the  goodness  that  is  in  men ! 


THE   STORY  OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION.     109 

Our  only  safety  in  God's  world  is  to  live  a  life 
of  love.  Alas,  how  many  Herods  are  there  still 
who  with  cruel  contempt  and  breath  of  bitter- 
ness slay  the  Christ  Child  in  the  hearts  of  men  ! 
Let  lis  hasten,  lastly,  to  see  zvhat  Jcsils  says. 
Here  along  the  crowded  roadway  He  comes. 
Zaccheus  has  heard  of  Him  as  the  Prophet,  he 
has  heard  of  Him  as  the  Son  of  David.  But 
there  is  another  word  that  fills  the  heart  of 
Zaccheus.  Jesus  has  called  Himself  "The 
friend  of  publicans  and  sinners."  And  now 
the  Saviour  stands  beneath  the  sycamore  tree. 
Instantly  that  Face  is  turned  up  towards  him. 
Again  all  the  procession  is  stopped,  all  the  crowd 
is  silenced,  and  on  the  still  air  there  rings  the 
word,  ''  Zaccheus,  make  haste  and  come  down,  I 
must  abide  at  thy  house  to-day."  ''Mine,  Lord, 
mine,"  cried  Zaccheus,  as  joyfully  he  swung 
himself  down  from  the  tree  and  leapt  to  the 
Master's  feet.  Instantly  there  burst  the  angry 
murmur  of  the  crowd,  like  a  sea,  "  He  is  gone 
to  be  guest  with  a  man  that  is  a  sinner."  But 
Jesus  laid  His  hand  upon  that  shoulder,  and 
Zaccheus,  looking  into  his  Master's  face,  is 
compelled  to  speak  in  no  boastful  pride,  but  in 
reply  to  those  mutterings  about  him.  "  Lord, 
the  half  of  my  goods  I  give  to  the  poor,  and  if 
I   have  wronged  any  man  I   restore  him  four- 


no      THE   STORY    OF  A   ROYAL   PROCESSION. 

fold."  Oh,  earth's  bravest  knight  and  truest 
gentleman  was  Jesus  Christ  of  Nazareth,  the 
champion  always  of  the  outcast  and  the  scorned. 
Immediately  facing  that  angry  crowd,  He  cried, 
"This  day  is  salvation  come  to  this  house,  for- 
asmuch as  he  also  is  a  son  of  Abraham.  For 
the  Son  of  Man  is  come  to  seek  and  to  save 
that  which  was  lost." 

Come  to  seek  Zaccheus  !  He  had  sought  to 
see  Jesus,  and  lo,  he  finds  that  Jesus  has  come 
to  seek  him  !  Sometime  ago  I  had  a  long  talk 
with  a  water-finder,  who  by  means  of  a  hazel 
rod  could  find  springs,  and  he  told  me  that 
when  he  came  near  to  the  stream  that  was 
below  the  earth  the  stick  turned  toward  it  and 
led  him  on  until  he  stood  over  the  spring.  I 
do  not  pretend  to  understand  that  mystery,  but 
I  can  think  it  is  thus,  that  the  great  brotherly 
instinct  of  Jesus  Christ  is  ever  conscious  of  the 
nearness  of  a  soul  that  longs  after  Him,  —  ever 
moving  irresistibly  nearer  to  it  until  He  stands 
v»rithin  reach  of  it  and  meets  it  with  His  great 
salvation. 

Of  all  the  people  m  Jericho  that  day  who  went 
forth  to  see  Jesus,  tJiere  zvere  after  all  only  tzvo 
who  really  saw  Him.      Others  saw  only  the  out- 
ward appearance.  His  form,  His  looks,  but  the 


THE   STORY   OF  A   ROYAL  PROCESSION.      Ill 

blind  man  and  Zaccheus  knew  His  heart.  We 
think  the  truth  is  a  thing  to  be  seen.  No,  it  is 
a  thing  to  be  sought,  and  bought,  and  earned, 
and  possessed,  —  nay,  rather  to  possess  us,  — 
and  the  price  you  pay  for  it  is  ever  a  heart  that 
longs  for  it  and  a  resolute  purpose  that  seeks  it. 

These  are  the  men  who  shall  see  Jesus. 
These  two,  who  imist  find  Him  ;  who  will  not 
be  turned  aside  by  any  difficulties.  And  thus 
to  seek  Him,  blessed  be  God,  is  always  to  find. 

Think  of  Zaccheus  as  he  went  on  his  way 
that  day  with  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Little  ! 
No,  indeed,  the  greatest  man  in  Jericho  if  a 
man  is  known  by  his  friends.  Lonely  no  more, 
but  having  now  on  his  side  to  help  and  gladden 
him  that  Almighty  Saviour, — feeling  as  he 
walks  at  the  Saviour's  side  that  innermost  sym- 
pathy which  words  can  only  belittle  and  bedim. 
What  mattered  it  now  what  the  Pha.risees  said  } 
What  mattered  it  now  who  was  against  him  } 
For  him  was  the  glorious  Son  of  God  Who  had 
come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost, 
—  his  for  ever  and  ever.  *'  He  is  gone  to  be 
guest  with  a  man  that  is  a  sinner."  That  is 
how  He  makes  His  saints  —  by  giving  us  Him- 
self, by  going  home  with  us,  by  making  us  know 
His  great  love,  by  giving  us  His  abiding  pres- 
ence as  our  strength,  our  peace,  our  joy. 


IX. 


THE   SAINTS  OF   CESAR'S   HOUSE- 
HOLD. 

"All  the  saints  salute  you,  chiefly  they  that  are  of  Caesar's 
household."  —  Phil.  iv.  22. 

It  is  the  chiefly  upon  which  I  want  to  lay  the 
stress  —  that  the  warmest  and  most  loving  salu- 
tation should  have  come  from  the  unlikeliest 
place. 

Let  us  look  at  the  man  who  is  writing  the 
message. 

St.  Paul  is  sending  a  letter  to  the  Church  at 
Philippi.  He  sits  in  all  the  rude  discomforts 
of  a  prison,  writing  amidst  much  difficulty, 
secured  by  a  coupling  chain  to  a  soldier. 

These  men  were  commonly  rough  bullies  and 
brutes,  who,  by  all  the  horrors  of  the  battlefield 
and  many  sights  of  cruelty,  had  been  trained  to 
make  light  of  suffering.  The  prisoner  is  a 
man  singularly  sensitive,  refined,  and  scholarly. 
Restlessly  active,  he  is  incapable  of  doing  any- 

112 


THE   SAINTS   OF  CESAR'S  HOUSEHOLD.     II3 

thing  by  halves.  Like  all  men  who  succeed 
greatly,  he  sets  himself  to  do  one  thing,  and 
that  the  most  splendid  that  ever  a  man  sought 
to  accomplish  —  to  make  known  Jesus  Christ 
and  Him  crucified  ;  and  he  brings  every  thought 
of  his  mind  and  every  energy  of  his  life  into 
perfect  discipline  for  the  fulfilment  of  this  pur- 
pose. To  such  a  man  how  galling,  how  mad- 
dening was  it  to  be  thus  shut  up  day  after 
day,  chained  and  bound  by  such  enforced  com- 
panionship to  a  Roman  soldier — a  man  corrupt, 
cruel,  foul,  angry  at  every  movement  of  the 
chain  that  bound  them,  ready  to  curse  him 
irritably  by  all  his  gods,  and  finding  in  the  suf- 
ferings of  this  helpless  stranger  a  hideous  sport. 
And  to  St.  Paul  it  must  have  seemed  some- 
times that  Christianity  itself  was  likely  to  be 
destroyed  unless  he  could  go  forth  to  proclaim 
its  glorious  freedom.  Not  only  were  the  Jews 
everywhere  madly  plotting  against  it  in  every 
way,  but,  worse  than  that,  the  Jewish  converts 
were  seeking  to  make  the  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ  only  another  Judaism,  and  were  com- 
pelling the  Christian  converts  to  adopt  Jewish 
customs,  to  submit  to  Jewish  ordinances,  and  to 
be  encumbered  with  all  the  cruel  bondage  of 
the  Jewish  Law.  At  such  a  time  this  man 
is  shut  up  in  a  dungeon ! 


114     THE   SAINTS   OF  CESAR'S  HOUSEHOLD. 

What  then,  is  this  Ufe  wasted  ?  Look  at  him 
as  he  sits  in  his  prison,  the  chain  rattUng  as  he 
moves  his  hand  wearily,  the  gloom  of  the  prison 
making  it  difficult  to  see.  He  is  preaching  in 
this  prison  to  a  greater  congregation  than  could 
ever  be  gathered  in  the  market  place  or  on 
Mars'  Hill.  At  that  hour,  when  time  seemed 
to  stand  still,  he  was  preaching  to  all  the  ages. 
And  this  day  this  word  is  ours  because  Paul 
was  in  prison. 

God  knows  how  to  have  us  at  our  best  if  we 
will  only  let  Him.  "  Your  Father  is  the  Hus- 
bandman." And  He  puts  the  seed  into  the 
earth :  prisoned  and  dungeoned  in  the  dark  it 
may  be,  but  only  that  it  shall  yield  the  flower 
and  fruit.  Ask  John  Bunyan  what  was  the  best 
thing  that  ever  happened  to  him.  How  his  face 
brightens  as  he  tells  you,  ''The  best  thing  that 
ever  happened  to  me  was  my  going  to  Bedford 
Jail,  for  there  I  got  my  chance  to  write  my 
Pilgrim  s  Progress. '  * 

God  sets  too  much  store  by  us  not  to  turn  us 
to  the  best  account.  The  one  best  gift  that  we 
can  ask,  or  that  He  can  give  us,  is  to  let  Him 
have  His  own  way  with  us  perfectly. 

Take  away  the  books  that  St.  Paul  wrote  in 
the  prison,  and  how  infinite  our  loss  would  be ! 

But  of  this  ministry  in  the  dungeon,  the  fruit 


THE   SAINTS    OF  CESAR'S  HOUSEHOLD.     II5 

was  not  only  afar  off  in  the  future,  it  zvas  imme- 
diate. Bound  to  the  soldier,  and  waited  on  by 
the  slaves  of  Caesar's  household,  Paul  found  a 
constant  opportunity  of  telling  those  about  him 
of  his  Saviour.  And  much  more  than  talking 
of  Jesus,  he  lived  a  life  that  outshone  his  ser- 
mons and  revealed  that  Christ  Who,  as  he  says, 
was  formed  in  him.  Think  of  the  soldier  who 
comes  in  turn  to  guard  this  prisoner,  cursing 
the  fate  that  has  withdrawn  him  from  his  pleas- 
ures, finding  a  wild  excitement  in  lust  and  wine 
and  the  bloody  scenes  of  the  arena.  Now  he 
sits  watching  his  prisoner ;  to  him  this  man 
chained  at  his  side  seems  to  have  found  the 
secret  of  happiness.  The  soldier  bends  over 
to  see  what  this  is  that  he  writes,  and  reads 
with  wonder :  **  Not  that  I  speak  in  respect  of 
want :  for  I  have  learned,  in  whatsoever  state  I 
am,  therewith  to  be  content.  I  know  both  how 
to  be  abased,  and  how  to  abound.  Everywhere 
and  in  all  things  I  am  instructed  both  to  be  full 
and  to  be  hungry,  both  to  abound  and  to  suffer 
need.  I  can  do  all  things  in  Christ  which 
strengtheneth  me."  And  he  does  not  only 
write  it  —  anybody  could  do  that — but  he  looks 
it,  sings  it,  lives  it.  Little  wonder  that  one  and 
another  come  to  ask  this  prisoner  to  tell  them 
more    of    this    Jesus    of    Nazareth    Who    had 


Il6     THE   SAINTS   OF  CESAR'S  HOUSEHOLD. 

wrought  such  great  things,  and  in  whom  he 
found  a  life  of  such  sweet  contentment  and  such 
perpetual  joy. 

So  it  was  that  there  gathered  there,  right  under 
the  shadow  of  Caesar's  palace,  a  little  company 
who  joined  the  Apostle  Paul  in  prayer  and  praise, 
and  heard  from  his  lips  the  great  message  of  the 
love  of  God  to  them  in  Jesus  Christ. 

To-day  he  tells  this  little  company  about  the 
Christians  at  Philippi,  to  whom  he  is  writing ; 
tells  them  of  Lydia,  the  first  convert  to  Chris- 
tianity in  Europe,  of  the  girl  possessed  with  the 
spirit  of  divination,  of  the  tumult  that  arose,  of 
his  being  cast  into  prison  ;  and  as  he  remembers 
that  night,  it  may  well  be  that  Paul  again  bursts 
out  into  the  song  that  rang  within  that  dungeon 
and  cheered  its  gloom.  Then  follows  the  story 
of  the  earthquake  and  the  jailer.  As  he  fin- 
ishes the  story,  this  little  company  of  slaves 
from  Caesar's  household  look  into  his  face  and 
say  to  him,  "  Give  our  love  to  the  brothers  and 
sisters  at  Philippi.  Tell  them  that  we  have 
been  hearing  of  them,  and  that  we  have  joined 
with  you  in  prayer  and  praise  on  their  behalf." 
And  so  St.  Paul  has  to  add  another  verse  to  his 
letter:  "All  the  saints  salute  you,  chiefly  those 
that  are  of  Caesar's  household."  "There,"  he 
asks,   "will  that   do  .^ "     And   their  eyes  flash 


THE   SAINTS   OF  CESAR'S  HOUSEHOLD.      11/ 

and  their  hearts  glow  with  the  joy  of  the  love 
that  binds  them  to  that  far-off  brotherhood. 

What  a  mistake  we  make  when  we  think  or 
act  as  if  we  thought  that  the  Gospel  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  is  not  perfectly  fitted  for  the  worst 
and  lowest  of  men  !  The  Saviour  ever  drew 
unto  Himself  the  publicans  and  sinners.  His 
holiness  did  not  repel,  but  attracted,  the  outcast 
and  fallen ;  and  the  common  people  ever  heard 
Him  gladly. 

Every  great  revival  of  religion  that  has  stirred 
the  Churches  and  uplifted  the  nation  has  begun 
amongst  these.  What  becomes  of  our  poor 
distinctions  whenever  we  have  to  deal  with  the 
great  gifts  of  God,  Who  is  no  respecter  of  per- 
sons }  The  sun  shines  as  brightly  upon  the 
cottage  as  upon  the  palace ;  the  light  falls  as 
gently  upon  the  plough-boy  who  wakes  at  dawn 
as  upon  the  prince.  The  breath  of  heaven 
comes  as  graciously  to  the  milkmaid  who  sings 
in  the  meadow  as  to  the  Queen  herself.  Made 
of  the  same  flesh  and  blood,  theirs  are  the  same 
wants,  the  same  fears,  the  same  sorrows,  the 
same  longings.  We  seem  to  need  a  new  move- 
ment in  every  generation  to  teach  the  stiff  and 
stereotyped  Churches  that  nowhere  has  the 
Gospel  found  a  heartier  reception  or  a  more  de- 
voted submission  than  amongst  the  lowest  and 


Il8     THE   SAINTS   OF  CESAR'S  HOUSEHOLD. 

poorest  and  neediest.  The  saints  of  Caesar's 
household  salute  us.  They  send  us  their  love, 
and  bid  us  be  sure  to  find  a  place  in  our  minis- 
try and  service  for  their  successors  in  all  ages. 

Let  us  turn  the  words  round  to  think  of 
those  of  whom  St.  Paul  writes,  the  sahits  of 
Ccesars  household —  certainly  the  last  place  to 
which  we  should  go  to  look  for  saints. 

The  sahits  —  where  shall  we  look  for  them.-* 
I  have  seen  their  portraits  —  they  are  commoner 
than  the  originals.  They  walked  the  earth  in 
robes  that  seem  to  proclaim  their  sanctity  —  for 
we  all  know  how  very  much  religion  there  may 
be  in  clothes.  Their  eyes  were  set  on  heaven  in 
holy  meditation.  Their  hands  were  clasped  as  if 
in  fixed  and  unbroken  devotion.  Theirs  were 
not  the  rough  ways  of  the  earth,  never  soiled  by 
contact  with  its  foulness — living  away  from  the 
world,  they  dwelt  in  sacred  solitude.  They  held 
communion  with  the  host  above.  Within  the 
sacred  atmosphere  that  encompassed  them  there 
came  no  din  of  earth's  disturbance ;  no  evil 
presence  entered  to  distract  the  ardor  of  their 
devotion  ;  no  coarse  concerns  of  common  life 
defiled  the  sweet  solemnities  amidst  which  they 
dwelt.  Such  is  the  picture.  But  what  have 
we  here  }     The  saints  of  CcEsar  s  hoicseJiold  ! 


THE   SAINTS   OF  CESAR'S  HOUSEHOLD.     IIQ 

To  begin  with,  Rome  at  that  time  was  the 
most  imhkely  place  in  the  world  to  look  for  a 
saint.  No  language  could  utter  the  depth  of 
abomination  to  which  it  had  sunk.  "  It  was 
Rome  at  the  epoch  of  her  most  gorgeous  glut- 
tonies and  her  most  gilded  rottenness."  His- 
torians have  described  the  Rome  of  that  day  as 
a  cesspool  of  iniquity,  a  filthy  sewer  into  which 
flowed  all  the  abominable  dregs  of  the  heathen 
world.  Dean  Farrar  has  given  us  a  picture  of 
Rome  as  corrupted  by  the  pollutions  of  the 
stage,  hardened  and  brutalized  by  the  cruelties 
of  the  arena,  terrorized  by  insolent  soldiers  and 
pauperized  mobs,  and  overrun  by  the  vilest 
slaves.  It  presented  at  this  period  a  condition 
of  things  unparalleled  for  foulness  and  misery 
in  the  annals  of  the  world.  Its  sensuality  was 
more  shameful  and  more  shameless  than  has 
ever  been  heard  of  in  history.  They  who 
shrank  from  its  seething  corruption  turned  with 
a  stoical  scorn  that  added  to  its  anguish  the 
gloom  of  despair.  Think  of  it  —  saints  in 
Rome ! 

And  of  all  its  people,  the  most  miserable  was 
the  lot  of  the  slave.  So  many  of  these  were 
there  that  they  could  only  be  kept  in  subjection 
by  the  most  terrible  severity.  One  of  them, 
roused    by  unutterable    wrongs,  had    murdered 


120     THE   SAINTS   OF  CMSAR'S  HOUSEHOLD. 

his  master.  To  avenge  that  murder,  no  less 
than  four  hundred  slaves  were  executed. 

We  read  of  one  Roman  who  had  20,000  of 
these  slaves,  and  it  was  no  extraordinary  thing 
for  one  household  to  have  many  hundreds,  so 
that  amongst  them  were  slaves  whose  duty  it 
was  to  keep  the  others  in  silence,  and  others 
whose  work  it  was  to  tell  the  master  their 
names.  So  absolutely  were  they  in  the  hands 
of  their  owners  that  they  could  be  abused  or 
tortured  or  killed  without  a  word  of  protest  or  a 
shadow  of  protection.  The  satirist  tells  us  how 
that  the  Roman  lady  sat  in  her  beauty  at  the 
banquet,  the  very  picture  of  loveliness,  but  the 
slave  girl  who  had  given  a  curl  of  her  hair  a 
wrong  turn  had  already  been  branded  with  a  hot 
iron.  He  describes  the  banquet  as  sparkling 
with  jewelry,  but  if  the  slave  should  accident- 
ally let  fall  a  crystal  vase,  then  and  there,  with- 
out ado,  he  could  be  flung  into  the  master's 
fishpond  to  feed  his  master's  lampreys.  Amongst 
all  this  it  is  that  we  find  these  saints. 

To  complete  it  all,  they  were  slaves  in  Ccesars 
hotiseJiold.  This  Caesar  was  Nero  —  a  very  mon- 
ster in  iniquity.  There  was  no  abomination  of 
which  this  man  had  not  been  guilty.  "A  whole- 
sale robber,  an  intriguer,  a  murderer,  a  liar,  a 
coward,  a  drunkard,  a  glutton,  unutterably  de- 


THE  SAINTS   OF  CESAR'S  HOUSEHOLD.     121 

praved,  he  was  that  last,  worst  specimen  of 
human  wickedness  —  a  man  who,  not  content 
with  every  existing  form  of  vice  and  sin,  had 
become  an  inventor  of  evil  things."  He  had 
poisoned  the  rightful  heir  to  the  throne  in  order 
himself  to  usurp  it ;  he  had  married  the  sister 
of  the  murdered  heir,  only  in  turn  to  break  her 
heart  by  his  brutality,  and  at  last  had  ordered 
her  assassination.  His  own  mother  had  been 
murdered  at  his  bidding,  and  the  list  of  his  vic- 
tims it  would  take  long  barely  to  sum  up.  He 
had  reduced  Rome  itself  to  ashes,  and  then  laid 
the  blame  of  it  upon  the  innocent  Christians, 
and  tortured  them  to  death  by  hundreds  in  ter- 
rible martyrdom. 

Here  it  is,  then,  where  the  example  and  in- 
fluence of  this  monster  had  poisoned  the  very 
atmosphere  —  within  the  walls  of  Nero's  palace 
—  that  a  little  company  of  his  own  slaves  gather 
in  loving  fellowship  around  Paul  the  prisoner, 
and  send  their  loving  greeting  to  the  Church  at 
Philippi. 

To  us,  too,  the  saints  of  Caesar's  household 
send  their  greetings. 

There  are  those  whose  position  seems  to  make 
Christianity  a  difficulty  —  they  may  think  some- 
times, perhaps,  almost  an   impossibility.      The 


122      THE   SAINTS   OF  CMSAR'S  HOUSEHOLD. 

claims  of  society,  the  cruel  scorn  of  companions, 
the  misunderstanding  and  ridicule  to  which  they 
are  exposed  are  sometimes  too  much  to  endure. 
My  brother,  my  sister,  these  saints  of  Caesar's 
household  salute  you.  What,  think  you,  would 
they  count  these  hindrances  of  which  you  make 
so  much }  There,  where  hosts  of  spies  sought 
to  gain  favor  by  betraying  those  about  them, 
where  to  be  a  Christian  meant  to  be  exposed 
at  any  moment  to  martyrdom  ! 

Think  of  that  little  group  gathering  to-day. 
Look  in  upon  it.  There  are  gaps  in  the  circle. 
Where  is  the  youth  whose  face  last  Sunday  was 
lit  up  with  rapturous  joy  as  he  told  of  his  love 
for  his  Lord  t  Where  is  the  gentle  maiden 
whose  testimony  to  her  Saviour  kindled  the 
love  of  all  as  they  listened  t  Where  is  the  old 
man  who  was  accustomed  to  lead  their  devo- 
tions }  Ah !  to-day  they  are  gone  forth  to  be 
flung  to  the  lions ;  and  this  little  company  has 
stolen  together  to  pray  that  God  will  keep  them 
true.  Listen  !  for  it  is  not  only  to  pray,  but 
to  praise  Him  Whose  great  love  made  them 
more  than  conquerors. 

And  is  there  no  room  to-day  for  any  heroism 
for  Jesus  Christ  .-*  Is  it  only  feeble  ones  who 
now  are  wanted  in  the  ranks  of  that  Saviour 
Who  laid  down   His   life  for  us }     We  have  a 


THE   SAINTS   OF  CESAR'S  HOUSEHOLD.     1 23 

goodly  heritage.  This  holy  religion  has  come 
down  to  us  through  the  succession  of  a  noble 
army  of  martyrs.  And  now  our  turn  has  come. 
Are  we  going  to  falter  and  fear  .-*  Shame  upon 
our  shame !  Let  us  put  on  a  new  courage,  and 
afresh  give  ourselves  to  the  Lord,  to  be  His 
utterly,  wholly,  always,  only  His. 

And  yet  again,  others  shrink  in  fear  of  them- 
selves. "I,  alas!  am  so  timid,"  say  they,  ''so 
cowardly.  I  wish  I  had  the  heroism  and  endur- 
ance that  could  make  me  a  worthy  soldier  and 
servant  of  Jesus  Christ."  Surely,  again,  these 
saints  of  Caesar's  household  salute  you ! 

*'  Oh,  brother,  sister,  talk  not  thus.  Think  you 
that  we  of  ourselves  were  so  brave  or  so  cour- 
ageous }  We,  indeed,  of  ourselves  were  timid  ; 
we  shrank,  afraid.  But  the  great  love  of  God 
kindled  within  us  a  love  that  cast  out  all  fear." 

My  brothers,  He  Who  made  them  strong  is 
ours.  Shall  He  be  to  us  only  a  name  Who  was 
to  them  such  strength  —  a  creed  only,  and  not 
a  conquering  might }  To  know  him  is  to  be 
strong;  to  commune  with  Him  is  to  have  our 
triumph  assured ;  to  love  Him  is  to  be  more 
than  conqueror. 

And  yet  again,  does  it  seem  to  some  that 
their  sphere  is  so  little,  so  narrow,  so  lowly,  that 
there   is    no    room    for   any    service   for    God  ? 


124      THE   SAINTS   OF  CESAR'S  HOUSEHOLD. 

Again,  the  saints  of  Caesar's  household  salute 
you. 

Come,  then,  stirred  by  the  example  of  this 
company  in  Caesar's  household,  let  us  to-day 
surrender  ourselves  to  Jesus  Christ,  pledging 
ourselves  afresh  to  Him,  to  be  His  faithful 
witnesses.  His  brave  disciples,  followers  of  those 
who  through  faith  and  patience  have  inherited 
the  promises. 


X. 

THE   LITTLE   CHILDREN. 

"The  little  children. "  — 6"/.  Mark  x.  14. 

Think  hozv  the  child  element  in  the  Bible 
makes  its  clai^n  iip07i  the  hnman  heart.  Go 
through  the  Book  and  take  out  of  it  all  the 
tender  and  exquisite  references  to  the  children, 
how  much  would  be  lost ! 

We  might  have  expected  that  the  Word  of 
God  would  have  no  place  for  the  children  — 
that  its  pages  would  be  filled  with  the  sublime 
revelations  of  the  Most  High  and  the  records 
of  His  bravest  soldiers  and  servants,  or  that  it 
would  be  a  volume  of  precepts  and  command- 
ments. How  significant  it  is  that  the  gracious 
Father,  who  found  a  place  for  the  little  ones  in 
His  Kingdom,  finds  so  much  room  for  them  in 
His  Word. 

It  has  been  said  by  some  that  the  sublimest 
sentence  ever  penned  is  that  in  the  story  of  the 

125 


126  THE   LITTLE    CHILDREN. 

Creation,  "And  God  said,  Let  there  be  light, 
and  there  was  light."  But  I  think  most  of  us 
feel  that  we  come  unutterably  nearer  to  God, 
and  know  very  much  more  of  our  Father  in 
reading  the  wonderful  words,  "  God  heard  the 
voice  of  the  lad.'' 

What  a  picture  it  is !  The  stretch  of  desert 
earth,  consumed  by  the  blaze  and  fire  of  the 
sun ;  the  stunted  shrubs,  and  there,  wearied  and 
faint,  the  mother  and  her  son.  The  water  is 
spent,  the  fever  burns  and  throbs  in  the  veins,  and 
now  the  lad  falls  stricken  to  the  ground.  The 
mother  bends  over  him  eagerly  watching  the 
life  that  is  ebbing  away ;  setting  him  under 
the  scanty  shade  of  a  shrub,  she  says,  "  Let  me 
not  see  the  death  of  the  child."  All  is  still. 
With  buried  face  the  mother  sits,  scarcely  able 
to  hear  the  fevered  moans  of  the  dying  child. 
"  God  heard  the  voice  of  the  lad.''  And  swiftly 
flew  the  angel  to  open  her  eyes  and  to  show  her 
the  well  of  water,  and  the  bottle  is  dipped  into 
the  gurgling  well,  and  bending  over  him  she 
moistens  the  parched  lips  and  cools  the  heated 
brow.  And  the  lad  opens  his  eyes  and  smiles 
his  thanks  to  his  mother,  whilst  she  looks  up 
to  her  Father  in  heaven,  and  her  heart  goes 
forth  in  loving  thanks  to  Him. 

Blessed  be  God  who  has  given  us  such  a  reve- 


THE  LITTLE    CHILDREN.  12/ 

lation  of  Himself  as  that!  He  for  whom  the 
world  longs  must  be  something  more  than  the 
Almighty  Creator,  and  the  great  Sustainer  of 
the  universe.  He  must  bend  in  such  infinite 
pity,  and  stretch  forth  such  gracious  help,  if  the 
world  is  to  come  to  Him,  saying,  '*  Our  Father, 
which  art  in  Heaven."  The  little  child  must 
reveal  Him. 

We  all  feel  how  true  it  is,  the  child  element 
gives  the  Bible  its  claim  upon  the  heart  of  the 
world.  Who  can  measure  the  influence  of  that 
Bible  story  of  the  little  babe  born  in  the  hut  of 
a  Hebrew  slave  in  Egypt  t  We  see  the  mother 
looking  upon  her  child  "exceeding  beautiful," 
whilst  her  great  grief  chokes  her,  and  she  presses 
it  to  her  heart  —  for  the  law  is  gone  forth  that 
the  sons  of  the  Hebrews  be  flung  into  the  river. 
Then  come  the  stealthy  visits  to  the  Nile  by 
night.  They  fetch  home  the  rushes  and  weave 
the  ark  for  the  child  and  then  creep  forth  to  lay 
the  little  one  upon  the  bank.  Then  comes  the 
dawning  of  that  happy  day,  and  the  princess  and 
her  maidens  gather  about  the  child,  and  it  is 
rescued  and  adopted  as  the  son  of  Pharaoh's 
daughter. 

Such  a  story  as  that  hangs  imperishably  in 
the  chambers  of  imagery,  and  brings  into  the 
midst  of  us  a  new  tenderness  and  a  new  love. 


128  THE   LITTLE    CHILDREN. 

God  bless  the  little  children  who  have  brought 
such  blessedness  to  us  ! 

Think  again  how  large  a  space  the  childhood 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  fills  in  the  Bible.  For  thirty 
years  there  is  but  a  single  break  in  the  silence 
concerning  Him,  but  about  the  Holy  Child  what 
scenes  of  exquisite  beauty  cluster.  We  see  the 
simple  shepherds  under  that  frosty  night ;  we 
hear  the  music  of  the  angels'  song ;  we  gather 
with  the  shepherds  as  they  come  in  haste ;  we 
stand  with  them  adoring  the  little  Child  wrapped 
in  the  swaddling  clothes  and  laid  in  the  manger. 
We  love  to  linger  at  the  temple  steps  as  old 
Simeon  takes  from  the  wondering  Mother  the 
blessed  Babe  and  sings  his  song  of  Israel's 
redemption.  And  we  come  again  to  Bethlehem, 
led  by  the  star,  and  with  the  wise  men  we  kneel, 
and  fain  would  lay  at  His  feet  the  gifts  of  gold 
and  myrrh  and  frankincense.  And  yet  again 
we  follow  them  along  their  way  on  that  dread 
night  when  Joseph  and  Mary  take  the  young 
Child  and  flee  from  Herod's  soldiers.  Of  all 
the  pictures  that  have  become  graven  upon  the 
heart  of  the  world  there  is  none  so  sacredly 
treasured  as  that  of  the  Holy  Child  Jesus.  Who 
can  say  how  much  it  has  enriched  men  through 
all  the  ages  with  gentleness  and  love  }  Who  can 
say  how  it  has  guarded  and  ennobled  childhood  ? 


THE  LITTLE    CHILDREN.  1 29 

Then  again,  in  the  ministry  of  the  Lord,  what 
a  place  He  gave  to  the  children  !  How  much 
He  finds  in  them  to  light  up  the  love  of  God 
and  to  reprove  our  pride  and  care.  He  sits  on 
the  mount  and  preaches  the  great  sermon  about 
the  heavenly  Father.  He  picks  a  flower  from 
the  field  and  holds  it  up.  "  Look  at  it ;  if  God 
so  clothe  the  grass  of  the  field,  shall  He  not 
much  more  clothe  you,  O  ye  of  little  faith.?" 
He  bids  them  listen  to  the  birds,  the  chirping 
sparrow  and  croaking  raven.  ''  Think  of  them," 
saith  He,  "  your  heavenly  Father  feedeth  them, 
are  ye  not  much  better  than  they } "  Then 
comes  the  third  illustration,  and  that  applies  the 
lesson.  The  break  of  the  chapter  shuts  off  the 
third  part  cruelly.  Look  at  the  Lord  Jesus 
amidst  the  crowd.  He  has  told  of  the  flowers 
and  the  birds  and  now.  He  to  whom  the  children 
ever  went  at  once,  stretches  out  His  hand 
and  draws  to  Himself  a  little  wondering  lad. 
''  What  man  of  you,  if  his  little  son  ask  bread, 
will  he  give  a  stone,  or  if  he  ask  a  fish  will 
he  give  him  a  serpent,  if  he  ask  an  ^gg  will 
he  give  him  a  scorpion  }  Therefore,  if  ye  being 
evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your 
children,  how  much  more  shall  your  heavenly 
Father  give  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask 
Him.?" 


130  THE  LITTLE    CHILDREN. 

The  world  never  saw  anything  more  exquisitely 
beautiful  than  when  the  disciples  came,  asking 
the  Lord  Jesus  which  of  them  should  be  the 
greatest.  The  question  does  not  convey  any 
idea  of  the  amount  of  feeling  that  lay  behind  it. 
It  was  a  fierceness  that  broke  into  angry  dispute, 
and  that  spread  to  the  friends  of  the  disciples,  so 
that  the  rival  leaders  had  their  followers  and 
advocates,  as  we  see  in  the  case  of  the  mother 
coming  with  the  request  that  her  two  sons 
should  occupy  the  first  place. 

It  is  impossible  for  us  to  imagine  how  it  must 
have  impressed  and  grieved  the  meek  and  lowly 
Saviour  that  there  should  be  this  spirit  in  His 
disciples  —  in  those  who  had  been  with  Him  and 
had  known  Him  as  none  else  had  done.  If  His 
disciples  indulged  such  miserable  feelings,  what 
could  He  expect  from  the  world.''  How  then 
shall  He  reprove  them  t  Shall  those  eyes  flash 
forth  their  most  indignant  fires }  Shall  those 
lips  utter  His  most  vehement  condemnation  t 
Oh,  let  it  live  before  us !  There,  in  the  house 
of  Capernaum,  amidst  this  company  of  fisher- 
men, is  a  little  lad.  And  Jesus  draws  to  Him- 
self the  child,  and  lays  His  hand  tenderly 
upon  him,  and  gently  stroking  him,  He  de- 
clares, "Verily  I  say  unto  you,  Until  ye 
be  converted  and  become  as  little  children,  ye 


THE   LITTLE    CHILDREN.  131 

shall  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
Whosoever  therefore  shall  humble  himself  as 
this  little  child,  the  same  is  greatest  in  the  king- 
dom of  heaven." 

And  yet  one  other  scene  there  is  that  we 
must  stay  to  look  upon.  The  mothers  have 
brought  their  young  children  to  Him  that  He 
should  touch  them.  The  disciples,  in  their 
jealous  care  for  their  tired  Master,  would  have 
kept  them  from  Him,  but  the  mothers'  instinct 
knew  Him  better  than  His  disciples.  Love 
alone  can  know  and  interpret  Him.  For  a 
moment  a  look  of  stern  displeasure  spread 
over  that  face.  "He  was  much  displeased." 
Then  turning  to  the  children  with  a  look  of 
love  and  welcome,  He  said,  "  Suffer  the  little 
children  to  come  unto  Me  and  forbid  them  not, 
for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven,"  and  He, 
the  Lord  of  angels,  He  who  made  the  round 
world  and  all  that  therein  is.  He  took  them  up 
in  His  arms  and  laid  His  hand  upon  them  and 
blessed  them. 

Since  He  loves  children  thus,  we  cannot  be 
afraid  of  Him.  He  might  have  preached  with 
unearthly  authority  ;  He  might  have  summoned 
Lazarus  from  the  dead  ;  He  might  have  wrought 
all  His  wonderful  works  and  have  spoken  all 
His  wonderful  words,  yet  if  this  story  had  been 


132  THE  LITTLE    CHILDREN. 

left  out,  we  could  never  have  known  Him  as 
we  do  now,  —  the  blessed  Friend  and  gracious 
Brother  of  men.  If  this  had  been  left  out,  we 
should  never  have  come  to  Him  with  the  feel- 
ings that  now  claim  Him  as  Saviour  and  Lord. 
To  win  the  children  is  to  win  the  world. 

See  how  the  Lord  redeems  men  by  the  little 
child.  That  blessing  of  the  Saviour  is  upon  all 
the  little  ones  and  comes  to  us  through  them. 
Let  us  ask  ourselves — Who  is  he  in  all  the 
world  who  does  most  for  us  t  Think  of  the 
great  world  with  all  its  roar  and  trafific  and 
eager  crowd  ;  think  of  all  the  interests  that 
busy  and  concern  men.  There  are  the  thinkers 
who  think,  and  the  artists  who  bless  us  with 
beauty,  and  the  poets  who  sing.  There  are 
those  who  enrich  us  with  the  luxuries  of  life, 
and  those  who  toil  for  its  comfort  and  necessi- 
ties. But  who  does  most  for  us }  He  does 
most  who  brings  to  the  heart  a  new  accession 
of  love,  —  of  love  that  subdues  all  the  thought 
and  aim  of  the  life :  —  that  uplifts  its  little  com- 
mon round  into  a  thing  purged  of  its  selfishness 
and  made  beautiful  by  thought  of  others.  If  that 
be  so,  then  let  the  world  make  room  for  the 
apostle  of  love,  —  the  little  child. 

Read  with  me  that  glowing  eulogy  of   love 


THE  LITTLE    CHILDREN.  1 33 

which  St.  Paul  has  spoken.  Love  siiffereth  long 
and  is  kind,  secketJi  not  her  own^  is  not  easily 
provoked,  tJiiitketh  no  evil,  beareth  all  thingSy 
siijfci'ctJi  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  e7idiireth 
all  things  ;  love  never  fail eth. 

What  think  you  of  that }  Is  it  all  a  sublime 
idea,  too  noble  for  the  selfishness  and  greed  of 
men,  or  not }  If  it  be  possible,  what  process, 
what  watchfulness,  what  stern  discipline,  alone 
shall  attain  it  t  And  shall  not  the  very  disci- 
pline and  self-restraint  make  one  hard  and 
suspicious } 

But  come  and  see  the  mother  as  the  babe  lies 
in  her  arms.  Here  it  is,  all  living,  to  the  very 
letter.  ''  Love  suffereth  long  and  is  kind  ;  love 
beareth  all  things,  endureth  all  things,  hopeth 
all  things ;  love  never  faileth."  In  a  thousand 
things  every  day  men  reach  the  limits  of  their 
knowledge ;  and  tongues  sooner  or  later  must 
cease,  but  that  love  of  the  mother  is  like 
God,  —  it  is  infinite,  without  measure  and  with- 
out end. 

And  lastly, '  let  us  learn  that  it  is  only  the 
child  spirit  that  can  know  God,  We  read  that 
on  one  occasion  Jesus  rejoiced  greatly,  and 
said,  "  I  thank  Thee,  heavenly  Father,  Lord 
of  heaven  and  earth,  that  Thou  hast  hid  these 
things   from   the   wise   and   prudent   and   hast 


134  ^^^  LITTLE    CHILDREN. 

revealed  them  unto  babes," — words  that  have 
been  horribly  misunderstood  with  almost  a  mali- 
cious ingenuity,  as  if  the  splendid  gifts  of  intel- 
lect and  beauty  were  things  not  of  God  but  of 
the  devil,  and  all  that  brightens  and  beautifies 
our  life,  with  lofty  thought  and  heart,  must  be 
set  aside  as  useless.  No,  these  are  of  God,  His 
high  and  holy  gifts  to  men.  It  is  not  to  the 
capacity  that  the  words  refer,  but  to  the  rela- 
tionship. 

Come  away  to  this  house  where  lives  a  man 
of  whom  the  world  has  heard,  though  nobody 
knows  his  name.  He  moves  amidst  the  ser- 
vants. Ask  them  if  they  know  him,  and  they 
will  tell  you  in  a  moment  that  they  have  worked 
for  him  all  their  days.  Yes,  they  know  him,  his 
skill  in  dealing  with  the  fields,  his  management 
of  the  cattle,  his  kindness  to  the  servants,  — 
they  know  him  well.  Here  come  two  of  his 
friends,  they  know  him  too.  They  constantly 
see  him  and  talk  with  him.  They  know  his 
thoughts,  his  likes  and  dislikes,  his  reverence 
for  the  past,  his  hope  for  the  future,  his  opin- 
ions on  things  to-day. 

Yet  they  do  not  know  him  away  in  the  inner- 
most heart.  But  now  there  comes  one  day  a 
limping,  hungry,  ragged  prodigal,  and  "when  he 
was  yet  a  great  way  off  his  father  saw  him  and 


THE  LITTLE    CHILDREN.  135 

ran  and  fell  on  his  neck  and  kissed  him,"  and 
that  great  heart,  beating  with  its  fulness  of  love, 
welcomed  and  blessed  the  lad  as  he  cried, 
"Father,  I  have  sinned." 

And  the  father  turned  to  the  wondering  ser- 
vants, ''  Bring  forth  the  best  robe  and  put  it  on 
him,  and  the  ring  for  the  finger  and  the  shoes 
for  the  feet,  and  bring  hither  the  fatted  calf  and 
kill  it,  for  this  my  son  was  dead,  and  is  alive 
again,  he  was  lost  and  is  found.  And  they 
began  to  be  merry." 

No,  they  did  not  know  him,  it  was  only  the 
son,  it  was  only  that  son  who  could  know  that 
father. 

What  hast  thou  said,  ''I  can  never  know  Him, 
all-wise  and  infinite.  He  is  past  finding  out." 
Why,  my  very  weakness  affords  the  revelation 
of  His  tenderness,  my  want  and  helplessness 
are  the  opportunity  of  knowing  Him  as  the 
strong  and  mighty  can  never  do. 

The  angels  may  know  the  glorious  majesty 
of  God.  They  sweep  through  the  universe,  ex- 
ploring His  greatness  and  wisdom,  they  come 
back  and  bow  in  rapturous  devotion  before  Him, 
veiling  their  faces  and  crying,  "  Holy,  holy, 
holy,  Lord  God  of  hosts,  heaven  and  earth  are 
full  of  Thy  glory." 

And  we,  alas !    so  little  and  so  far  off,  what 


136  THE  LITTLE    CHILDREN. 

can  we  know  of  Him  ?  But  lo,  because  we  are 
weak  and  little,  because  we  are  sinful  and  un- 
worthy, ours  are  revelations  of  Him  that  they 
can  never  know.  It  is  as  the  heavenly  Father 
bends  over  us  in  tender  pity  that  the  angels  see 
God  in  His  fullest  glory  and  they  cry  in  wonder, 
"  Herein  is  love." 


XL 
A   CALL    TO    COMMUNION. 

"  Jesus  saith  unto  them,  Come  and  break  your  fast."  — John 
xxi.  12. 

The  first  thing  and  the  great  thing  in  this 
chapter  is  the  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ.  So 
the  story  begins.  "  After  these  things  Jesus 
showed  Hi7tiself  again  to  His  disciples  at  the 
sea  of  Tiberias."  The  whole  story  is  full  of 
touches  of  exquisite  tenderness.  The  golden 
thread  running  through  it  from  beginning  to 
end  is  this  purpose  that  they  should  see  Him 
and  know  Him  indeed  to  be  ^^  this  same  Jesus^ 

Look  at  the  place.  They  had  gone  into  Gali- 
lee where  they  had  mostly  lived  with  Jesus. 
Jerusalem  was  full  of  dark  memories  of  His 
death.  There  was  Gethsemane,  where  He  had 
bowed  in  His  exceeding  sorrow.  There  was 
the  Judgment  Hall,  whither  He  had  been  led 
bound,  and  where  He  had  been  beaten  and 
mocked.  There  was  the  palace  of  Pilate, 
where    the    Lord    had    been    condemned,    and 

137 


138  A    CALL    TO    COMMUNLON. 

there  the  palace  of  Herod,  where  He  had  been 
smitten.  And  there,  without  the  city  wall  was  the 
place  where  He  had  been  crucified.  There  was 
the  garden  with  the  sepulchre  in  which  He  was 
laid.  If  they  were  henceforth  only  to  treasure 
the  hallowed  memory  of  a  dead  Christ,  if  that 
was  to  be  the  service  they  should  render,  then 
Jerusalem  was  indeed  the  only  fitting  place  for 
them.  As  they  passed  along  its  streets  they 
met  the  Pharisee  and  Scribe  who  had  compassed 
His  death.  There  went  the  Roman  soldiers 
who  had  crucified  Him.  Blessed  was  it  to  go 
forth  from  its  gates  and  leave  its  darkened 
memories.  As  they  returned  to  Galilee  it  was 
as  if  they  entered  into  a  new  earth  and  walked 
under  another  heaven.  Along  these  ways  He 
had  walked  and  talked  with  them  in  happy  com- 
munion. There  on  the  hillside  was  the  sower 
going  forth  to  sow.  The  very  fowls  of  the  air 
seemed  to  sing  of  Him.  And  on  the  slopes, 
decking  them  with  their  rich  beauty,  grew  the 
lilies  of  the  field,  breathing  still  the  lessons 
He  had  taught  them  of  the  heavenly  Father's 
care. 

Above  all  places  they  were  by  the  sea  of  Galilee. 
It  was  set  about  with  happy  memories  of  their 
dear  Lord.  There  was  the  strip  of  green  grass 
on  which  the  people  sat  when  He  had  fed  them. 


A    CALL    TO    COMMUNLON.  1 39 

There  was  the  spot  whence  He  had  come  forth 
to  them  across  the  tossing  waves.  They  could 
not  lift  their  eyes  without  seeming  to  have  the 
blessed  Master  beside  them  as  of  old.  And 
note  further,  not  the  place  only  but  the  very 
occasion  brought  Him  near.  Of  all  the  memories 
of  their  Lord  in  Galilee,  none  was  more  deeply 
graven,  and  here  by  the  sea,  none  was  so  often 
recalled  as  that  night  when  the  fishermen  had 
gone  forth  under  the  still  stars  and  had  toiled 
through  its  stillness  and  had  caught  nothing. 
In  the  morning  their  boats  were  drawn  up  by 
the  shore  and  these  same  fishermen  were  sitting 
beside  their  nets  when  Jesus  came  on  His  way. 
He  bids  them  push  off  the  boat  and  cast  the 
net  again.  Peter,  the  fisherman,  shakes  his 
head  doubtfully.  It  is  no  good  ;  —  if  they  failed 
at  night,  there  is  no  chance  by  day.  Yet  to 
oblige  this  Rabbi  from  Nazareth  he  is  willing 
to  let  down  the  net,  and  lo  !  it  is  filled.  Terrified 
with  this  show  of  authority,  the  fishermen  fell  at 
His  feet.  Then  came,  gently  spoken,  the  call 
to  the  new  work,  to  which  they  were  henceforth 
to  devote  their  lives.  *'  Fear  not,  I  will  make 
you  fishers  of  men." 

Now  once  again  Peter,  whose  voice  has  been 
silenced  since  that  night  in  the  Judgment  Hall, 
speaks  to  those  about  him.     **I  go  a  fishing." 


140  A    CALL    TO    COMMUNLON. 

It  may  be  that  he,  filled  with  the  great  sorrow 
of  his  fall,  thinks  that  he  can  no  more  be  trusted 
with  that  work  to  which  the  Master  had  called 
him.  He  has  proved  himself  unworthy.  For 
him,  at  any  rate,  there  is  nothing  left  but  to  go 
back  again  to  the  old  calling.  *'  I  go  a  fishing." 
Sadly  the  others  answer,  "  We  also  go  with 
thee."  We  see  them  get  into  the  weather-worn 
craft.  There  is  Simon  Peter,  saddest  of  them 
all.  There  is  Thomas,  who  surely  can  never 
doubt  his  Lord  again.  There  is  Nathaniel. 
There  are  two  others  not  named.  There  are 
the  two  sons  of  Zebedee,  one  of  them  ever  lis- 
tening and  longing  for  the  coming  of  the  Lord. 
They  toil  all  night  and  catch  nothing.  And 
now  does  Simon  say,  "  Ah  !  do  you  remember, 
it  was  after  such  a  night  that  He  manifested 
Himself  to  us  that  first  time }  "  And  is  it  John 
who  answers,  "Perhaps  He  has  sent  such  an- 
other night  that  we  may  learn  to  look  for  Him 
again  .^  "  So  the  hours  go  by.  Each  time  they 
drag  the  dripping  net  only  to  find  it  empty.  At 
last  the  day  quivers  over  the  hills  of  the  Gade- 
rene  country,  when  suddenly  from  the  misty 
morning  comes  a  voice  all  tenderness,  ''  My 
lads,"  for  so  is  it  best  rendered,  "  My  lads,  have 
ye  anything  to  eat } "  They  cry  back,  "  We  have 
toiled  all  night  and  have  caught  nothing."     Then 


A    CALL    TO   COMMUNLON.  I4I 

comes  the  reply,  "  Cast  your  net  on  the  right 
side  of  the  ship  and  ye  shall  find."  And  every 
one  felt  in  his  heart  that  which  John  said,  '^  It  is 
the  Lord!' 

Look  back  over  it  all  and  see  how  all  is  or- 
dered for  this  one  end — that  Jesus  shall  show 
Himself  to  His  disciples.  He  Who  was  dead 
and  was  risen,  He  Who  came  they  knew  not 
how  or  whence,  and  went  they  knew  not  whither, 
must  have  seemed  as  another  to  them,  a  myste- 
rious presence  to  Whom  they  could  not  come  as 
they  came  of  old,  with  Whom  they  could  not 
enter  into  happy  communion.  And  just  as 
Thomas  must  have  his  faith  assured  by  touch- 
ing the  wound-prints  and  thrusting  his  hands 
into  that  sacred  side,  so  now,  by  all  the  surround- 
ings, by  the  place,  by  the  occasion,  by  all  the 
former  memories,  the  Lord  would  reveal  Him- 
self to  His  disciples  as  this  same  Jesus. 

This  is  ever  first,  and  without  this  there  is 
nothing.  There  must  be  the  real  Presence  or 
there  is  nothing,  nothing.  Not  a  real  presence 
in  any  awful  mystery  of  bread  and  wine,  —  that 
surely  is  unlike  all  that  we  know  of  the  blessed 
Saviour.  But  we  must  know  Him  as  our  very 
Friend  and  Brother,  as  they  knew  Him  of  old. 
So  He  longs  to  reveal  Himself,  making  our 
hearts  burn  within  us  whilst  He  talks  with  us 


142  A    CALL    TO    COMMUNION. 

by  the  way.  "  Where  Christ  is,  there  is  the 
Church,"  said  the  great  divine  of  old.  Where 
Christ  is,  there,  and  there  only,  is  the  sacra- 
ment. Let  us  think  again  how  the  Lord 
Jesus  seeks  to  manifest  Himself  to  us  by  all 
the  faculties  of  our  mind,  through  all  the  ave- 
nues of  the  soul,  by  all  the  circumstances  and 
conditions  of  the  daily  life,  by  all  the  promises 
of  His  word  and  the  services  of  His  house  and 
the  influences  of  His  Spirit.  Let  us,  like  John 
of  old,  listen  and  long  for  Him  with  a  listening 
and  longing  that  are  never  in  vain  ;  and  lo  !  He 
shall  come  to  us  as  He  came  to  those,  so  that 
the  heart  shall  cry,  "  It  is  the  Lord."  Then, 
and  then  only,  can  He  bid  us  come  and  break 
our  fast. 

The  second  thought  is  the  renewal  of  love.  It 
is  in  Peter  that  the  story  centres  now.  Here  is 
the  fire  of  coals.  That  to  him  may  mean  much. 
The  only  other  occasion  on  which  we  read  of  a 
fire  of  coals  is  in  the  Judgment  Hall,  where 
Peter  had  stood  and  warmed  himself,  but  alas ! 
where  the  chilled  heart  forgot  its  Lord,  and  false 
tongue  denied  Him.  And  now  here  is  another 
fire  of  coals,  —  the  drift-wood  which  the  gracious 
Lord  has  stooped  to  gather  with  His  own  hands 
and  has  kindled  for  His  wet  and  weary  disciples. 
Look  at  the  group.     There  is  the  sandy  shore. 


A    CALL    TO    COMMUNION.  1 43 

from  which  the  steep  slopes  rise,  gay  with  a 
thousand  flowers.  Before  them  stretch  the 
blue  waters  of  the  lake.  On  the  shore  sits  the 
Saviour.  Beside  Him  is  John,  and  the  other 
side,  we  can  think,  is  vacant.  Peter  cannot  go 
to  his  old  place,  and  none  else  would  fill  it.  He 
is  stretched  full  length  at  the  Master's  feet  and 
is  thinking  how  he  longs  that  he  could  teil  the 
Lord  that  he  does  love  Him.  But  alas !  after 
that  dreadful  fall,  he  dare  not  trust  himself  to 
speak  again.  Now  the  face  of  Jesus  is  turned 
toward  Simon,  those  eyes  look  on  him,  reading 
his  heart.  The  hand  is  stretched  forth  and  laid 
upon  the  shoulder.  **  Simon,  son  of  Jonas,  dost 
thou  care  for  Me } "  It  is  not  the  word  that 
Peter  uses.  "  Dost  thou  care  for  Me  !  "  In- 
stantly Peter,  with  heart  on  fire,  cries,  '*  Lord, 
Thou  knowest  all  things,  Thou  knowest  that  I 
love  Thee'' 

Again  Jesus  asks  him,  "  Simon,  son  of  Jonas, 
dost  thou  care  for  Me  .-*  "  Again  he  cries,  more 
passionately,  "  Lord,  Thou  knowest  all  things. 
Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee."  The  third 
time  Jesus  yields  to  Peter  and  uses  his  own 
word,  ''  Dost  thou  love  Me  }  "  "  Love  Thee, 
my  Lord,  Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee." 

Why,  think  you,  is  the  question  asked  three 
times  ?     The  answer  is  not    far  to  seek.     Be- 


144  ^    <^-^^^    ^<^    COMMUNION. 

cause  by  that  fire  of  coals  in  the  Judgment  Hall 
three  times  did  Peter  declare,  "I  never  knew 
Him  "  ;  and  now  three  times  should  Peter  look 
into  that  face  and  declare,  "Thou  knowest  that 
I  love  Thee."  For  every  one  of  us  this  is  the 
next  thing.  Here  in  our  midst  is  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  Who  loved  us,  and  gave  Himself 
for  us,  and  from  His  lips  He  speaks  to  us  each 
by  name.  There  comes  the  question,  "  Dost 
thou  love  Me  t "  He  waits  for  the  separate 
and  personal  reply.  What  is  it .?  From  many, 
it  may  be,  there  comes  the  answer,  "  Lord,  I 
did  once,"  —  and  sadly  it  ends  there.  Here  too 
the  old  place  is  empty.  Like  Peter,  for  greed, 
for  ourselves,  we  may  have  forsaken  Him.  Or 
there  came  the  hour  of  temptation,  the  sneer, 
the  threat ;  and  that  dreadful  denial,  "  I  never 
knew  Him."  The  Lord  Jesus  stands  to-day  as 
near  to  us  as  He  was  to  Peter  of  old.  For  us 
there  waits  the  fire  that  can  warm  the  chilled 
heart  into  love  again.  For  us  there  waits  the 
food  indeed  that  can  nourish  our  faith  and  cour- 
ao:e  and  devotion  to  our  Lord.  To  us  He  saith, 
"  Come  and  break  your  fast."  Note  well  that  it 
was  after  \.\i^  meal,  not  before,  that  the  questions 
were  asked.  When  tJiey  had  dined,  Jesus  said, 
"  Simon,  son  of  Jonas,  lovest  thou  Me  }  "  The 
cure  for  my  coldness  is  at  His  feet ;  the  strength 


A    CALL    TO    COMMUNION.  145 

for  my  weakness  is  in  His  presence.  It  was 
when  Peter  saw  those  pierced  hands,  and  looked 
into  His  face  that  his  heart  was  filled  with  this 
great  love. 

The  third  thought  is  the  commission  for  ser- 
vice. "  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Simon,  tend  My 
sheep,  feed  My  lambs,  shepherd  My  sheep." 
That  is  ever  the  third  feature  in  Peter's  resto- 
ration. Love  can  only  satisfy  itself  in  service. 
It  cannot  live  in  words  only,  it  must  clothe  itself 
in  deeds. 

And  yet  again  we  can  think  that  to  Peter's 
great  love  it  must  have  seemed  as  though  hence- 
forth any  true  service  was  impossible.  Had  not 
the  Master  Himself  spoken  the  words  that  told 
that  it  was  all  too  late }  "  Sleep  on  now  and 
take  yonr  rest''  The  great  opportunity  was  lost 
and  gone,  never  more  to  return,  when  in  the 
hour  of  the  Saviour's  loneliness  and  agony  Peter 
could  have  stood  boldly  by  his  Lord.  The  mem- 
ory of  what  he  might  have  done  had  made  all 
the  future  empty,  all  possibility  of  service  sink 
to  nothingness.  Ah  !  if  only  tJien  he  had  fol- 
lowed closely  by  his  Lord,  had  borne  for  Him 
the  Cross,  as  did  Simon  the  Cyrenian.  And 
does  Peter  look  up  to  his  Lord  with  tearful 
eyes  and  say,  "  I  would,  my  Lord,  but  it  is  all 


146  A    CALL    TO    COMMUNION 

too  late,  too  late,"  and  is  it  as  Jesus  bends  over 
him  and  reads  the  secret  of  his  heart  that  He 
replies,  "Nay,  Simon,  nay,  love  ever  finds  its 
opportunity.  Fear  not,  thou  shalt  yet  be  Peter 
the  Rock,  upon  whom  I  can  build,  thou  shalt 
yet  fulfil  thine  own  words,  and  follow  Me  to  the 
death.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee,  when 
thou  wast  young,  thou  girdedst  thyself,  and 
walkedst  whither  thou  wouldest  ;  but  when 
thou  shalt  be  old,  thou  shalt  stretch  forth  thine 
hands,  and  another  shalt  gird  thee,  and  carry 
thee  whither  thou  wouldest  not."  This  spake  He 
signifying  by  what  death  he  should  glorify  God. 
Love  will  find  its  opportunity.  As  in  the 
glad  season  of  the  spring  time  the  sun  cannot 
show  itself  without  quickening  in  seed  and 
root  the  glad  new  life,  and  as  in  turn  the  new 
life  cannot  but  unfold  itself  in  leaf  and  bloom 
and  flower,  so  is  it  that  we  cannot  see  the 
Lord  without  a  quickening  love,  and  love  can 
only  live  in  fuller,  richer  service.  And  love 
and  service  in  turn  do  bring  the  revelation  of 
the  Lord.  "  If  a  man  love  Me,  he  will  keep  My 
words,  and  My  Father  will  love  him,  and  we 
will  come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode  with 
him."     Amen. 


XII. 

THE  TRUE   BEAUTY. 

I. 

"  Let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  be  upon  us."  — Ps.  xc.  17. 

Let  us  dwell  upon  some  of  the  more  promi- 
nent features  in  any  beauty  of  character. 

We  feel  at  once  that  there  can  only  be  beauty 
where  there  is  unity ^  consistency.  Alike  in  sci- 
ence or  any  thought,  we  cannot  rest  until  we  get 
down  to  the  law  that  lies  at  the  back  and  source 
of  the  subject.  And  in  beauty  there  must  be 
that  which  reaches  to  the  innermost  life,  and 
thence  stretches  to  every  side  of  the  charac- 
ter, and  runs  through  every  development  of  it. 
Beauty  is  a  matter  of  proportion  and  harmony, 
—  and  what  is  that  but  another  name  for  unity  .-* 
This  is  the  great  mark  of  God's  work, — that 
whilst  with  us  beauty  is  often  only  the  end  and 
finish  of  our  works,  in  nature  beauty  runs  through 
all,  and  the  minutest  and  most  hidden  part  is  as 
beautiful  as  the  more  manifest  and  developed. 

147 


148  THE    TRUE   BEAUTY. 

And  yet  even  with  us,  who  see  but  the  outside 
of  things,  that  which  is  only  outside  offends  as 
an  imposture  and  pretence.  We  keep  our  bit- 
terest scorn  not  for  the  bad  man,  but  for  the 
hypocrite,  who  assumes  a  beauty  that  does  not 
belong  to  his  innermost  life,  —  a  skin-deep  cover- 
ing for  the  false  soul  that  hides  beneath  it.  This 
must  stand  first :  unity,  consistency  —  in  one 
word,  truth. 

The  next  feature  in  any  beauty  of  character 
is  strength.  And  what  is  that  but  the  proof  of 
consistency  and  unity  —  its  proof  and  measure  } 
Strong  because  one.  Weakness  of  purpose, 
weakness  of  principle  can  never  be  beautiful. 
Strength  that  puts  its  foot  down,  and  straightens 
its  backbone,  and  knits  its  brows,  and  sets  its 
teeth,  and  cries,  like  Luther,  "  Here  I  stand :  I 
can  no  other.  God  help  me"  —  obstinate  if 
you  will,  stubborn  if  you  like ;  but  obstinate  for 
the  right,  stubborn  for  the  truth.  The  strength 
that  can  endure,  that  can  die  if  need  be,  but 
that  cannot  yield.  Strength  that  does  not  blus- 
ter, much  less  bully  or  boast ;  but  that  neither 
fears  nor  falters.  A  thing  rooted  and  grounded 
in  right. 

Another  feature  in  this  beauty  of  character  is 
naturalness.  That  which  tries  to  be  beautiful 
is  at  once  undone.     That  which  mtist  be  beauti- 


THE    TRUE  BEAUTY.  1 49 

ful  cannot.  The  self-consciousness  ruins  it. 
True  beauty  is  made  up  of  such  strength  and 
such  simplicity  that  it  is  unconscious  of  effort. 
Real  simplicity  is  simple  reality.  And  this 
means  freedom.  And  yet  is  it  the  freedom  of 
a  compulsion  which  knows  no  choice,  no  con- 
flict, no  friction,  —  a  compulsion  which  fills  and 
floods  the  will,  and  finds  a  glad  response  in 
every  faculty.  You  cannot  get  any  beauty  of 
character  when  there  is  the  clank  of  the  chain 
and  the  whip  of  the  taskmaster,  when  the  soul 
is  torn  between  duty  and  pleasure.  The  stern 
^^  i/iou  shaW  of  the  law  must  become  softened, 
and  yet  strengthened  into  a  joyous  '^ I zvill,''  if 
the  true  beauty  is  to  be  ours. 

And  strength  and  naturalness  bring  joy,  and 
bring  rest.  At  harmony  within  itself,  the  soul 
has  rest ;  at  harmony  with  the  great  divine  pur- 
pose of  things,  the  life  is  filled  with  music. 
Joy  is  beauty,  and  beauty  is  joy. 

See  how  perfectly  all  this  meets  us  in  the  char- 
acter of  the  Lordjestis.  In  Him  there  is  noth- 
ing that  breaks  the  completeness,  nothing  that 
jars  upon  the  perfect  harmony.  There  is  no 
false  note.  In  Him  there  is  strength.  He  saw 
along  His  way  that  dreadful  end, — the  shame 
and   agony  that  awaited    Him,  —  and   yet  He 


150  THE    TRUE  BEAUTY. 

came  on,  step  by  step,  and  day  by  day,  to  meet 
it.  What  naturalness  was  His — how  uncon- 
strained. What  ease.  How  spontaneous  and 
free  and  perfect  in  its  fitness  to  all  occasions 
was  that  life.  He  was  always  ready  for  all 
kinds  of  characters,  and  all  kinds  of  wants, 
because  He  was  always  Himself.  What  freedom 
was  His.  He  who  took  upon  Him  the  form  of 
a  servant ;  who  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto, 
but  to  minister ;  who  said,  "  I  must  work,"  yet, 
because  all  within  Him  was  one  and  all  was 
strong,  what  a  perfect  freedom  was  His.  And 
His  was  a  joy  such  as  none  other  ever  knew, 
anointed  with  the  oil  of  joy  above  His  fellows. 

And,  looking  at  Him,  we  see  the  beauty  of 
the  Lord  our  God  in  yet  another  aspect  that 
completes  it.  We  have  said  that  beauty  of 
character  is  joy.  Yet  where  was  ever  such 
grief  as  in  Him  —  the  Man  of  Sorrows  and 
acquainted  with  grief  .•*  This  is  the  finish  and 
perfection  of  any  beauty  :  Love,  — great,  deep, 
tender  love  —  that  stoops  to  carry  the  sorrows 
of  men ;  that  weeps  with  those  that  weep,  and 
that  makes  the  burdens  and  griefs  of  others  its 
own,  a  deep,  yearning  sympathy.  The  unity  of 
beauty  must  become  a  oneness  with  others,  and 
must  hold  itself  and  its  all  to  help  and  bless 
those  about  it. 


THE    TRUE   BEAUTY.  151 

This  then  is  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God 
that  is  to  be  upon  us  :  unity,  strength,  natural- 
ness, freedom,  joy  —  all  gathered  up  in  a  life 
of  simple  love. 

But  between  ourselves  and  this  vision  of  beanty 
are  many  hindrances.  There  is  our  feebleness 
and  helplessness.  It  is  stamped  upon  us. 
Taken  from  the  dust,  to  the  dust  we  return. 
"Thou  turnest  man  to  destruction.  Thou  say- 
est,  Come  again,  ye  children  of  men."  The 
reference  seems  to  be  to  the  Potter  who  has 
shaped  the  vessel,  and  then,  as  if  wearied  of 
its  flaws  and  defects,  He  shatters  that  which 
has  so  failed  to  fulfil  His  ideal.  We  dream  of 
beauty,  and  lo,  Time  laughs  at  us.  Death  claims 
us.  Eternity  affrights  us.  Over  us  there  falls 
that  chill  shadow,  and  for  us  there  waits  that 
gloomy  home  where  there  is  no  work  nor  device. 
We  talk  of  strength,  of  freedom,  of  joy  —  and 
lo,  we  are  but  the  froth  and  foam  of  the  flood ; 
a  bubble  on  the  wave ;  helpless  creatures,  the 
sport  of  cruel  circumstance.  We  almost  hear 
the  mocking  laughter  of  the  soul  at  itself. 
Beauty  !  Alas  for  us  !  What  beauty  but  that 
of  the  grass,  which  springs  up  at  the  dawn  ; 
and  with  the  night  there  comes  the  frost,  and 
it  is  cut  down  and  withered  }     **  We  spend  our 


152  THE    TRUE  BEAUTY. 

years  as  a  tale  that  is  told,"  stirred  by  some 
fancied  triumph,  and  then  back  again  to  the 
emptiness. 

Nor  is  that  all.  Would  that  it  were !  "  TJwic 
hast  set  our  iniquities  before  Thee:  our  secret 
sins  in  the  light  of  Thy  coimtenancer  In  that 
fierce  light,  all  hard  and  naked  stands  the  evil 
of  our  lives.  Talk  of  beauty,  amidst  all  that  is 
false  and  revolting  and  insulting !  Shall  we 
dare  to  think  of  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our 
God,  for  whom  there  can  be  but  His  fiery  in- 
dignation }  Unity,  —  alas,  how  are  we  rent  and 
torn  by  the  foul  hands  of  our  sins !  Strength, 
—  to-day  in  our  pride  we  stand  as  a  rock ;  and 
to-morrow,  in  our  feebleness,  we  are  swept  as 
the  dust.  We  dream  of  naturalness,  freedom, 
joy, — and  every  good  is  such  an  effort,  and 
every  duty  seems  so  hard !  Beauty  is  love  ; 
and  in  our  hearts  ill-will,  and  selfishness,  and 
all  uncharity  do  find  a  home. 

Yet  within  such  a  soul  is  born  this  prayer, 
'*  Let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  be  upon 
us."  This  is  the  glory  of  this  Book.  It  deals 
in  stern  hard  truth  with  us  men  and  women  ; 
and  yet  it  puts  within  our  reach  the  highest  and 
most  sublime  possessions  that  God  can  confer 
upon  any. 


THE    TRUE  BEAUTY.  1 53 

How  then  is  this  prayer  to  be  answered?  By 
a  new  life.  From  within,  not  from  without, 
must  come  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God. 
This  unity  and  strength  can  only  be  of  life. 
This  naturalness  can  only  come  of  a  new  nat- 
ure. All  God's  beauty  is  from  within.  It  is 
true  of  everything,  as  Tennyson  sings  — 

To-day  I  saw  the  dragon-fly 

Come  from  the  wells  where  he  did  lie. 

An  inner  impulse  rent  the  veil 
Of  his  old  husk  ;  from  head  to  tail 
Came  out  clear  plates  of  sapphire  mail. 

He  dried  his  wings  :  like  gauze  they  grew ; 
Thro'  crofts  and  pastures  wet  with  dew, 
A  living  flash  of  light  he  flew. 

And  to  turn  from  poetry  to  homeliest  prose. 
A  while  ago  I  held  in  my  hand  a  strange  sort 
of  nut,  a  thing  like  a  small  cannon-ball  —  it 
might  have  been  made  of  iron.  "  How  do  you 
crack  it.?"  I  asked.  "Well,"  said  the  man, 
*'  you  want  a  blacksmith's  hammer  to  do  it. 
The  boys  fling  them  against  the  wall,  and  have 
to  do  it  half  a  dozen  times  before  they  get  them 
opened."  As  I  looked  at  it,  I  thought  there 
was  a  more  excellent  way  than  that.  Plant  it 
in  the  ground.     Let  it  be  quickened  with  new 


154  THE    TRUE  BEAUTY. 

life  from  within.  Let  the  gentle  forces  of  sun- 
shine and  shower  move  upon  it,  and  again  the 
old  husk  should  be  rent.  So  is  it  that  God  be- 
gins to  make  us  beautiful,  by  the  power  of  a 
new  life. 

Again  we  remember  this  word,  the  pleasant- 
ness of  the  Lord  our  God.  Patience,  gentleness, 
hope,  are  needful  to  the  unfolding  of  this  beauty. 
**He  blesseth  the  springing  thereof."  Our  heav- 
enly Father  does  not  wait  until  things  are  fin- 
ished before  He  cares  for  them.  He  stoops 
tenderly  to  bless  the  little  hidden  beginnings 
of  things.  The  sprouting  seed  is  cared  for  and 
ministered  to.  Soul,  thou  hast  a  God  who  can 
make  the  beginnings  of  thy  new  life  beautiful. 

Then  there  is  the  ministry  of  ten  tJwnsand  in- 
fltiences  and  circnmstances.  How  much  goes  to 
the  making  of  a  flower  t  There  are  the  frosts 
that  fray  the  soil ;  the  winds,  with  every  change 
bringing  some  new  service ;  the  soil  itself,  hid- 
ing forces  that  can  quicken  and  upbuild  the  seed 
and  its  growth  ;  the  dew  and  rain ;  the  sun  and 
air.  What  wondrous  power  is  this  that  thrusts 
out  leaf,  and  shapes  the  bud,  and  unfolds  the 
flower.  What  skill  is  this  that  paints  its  deli- 
cate colors.  What  subtle  chemistry  distils  the 
scent.     And  for  you  and  me,  what.-*     How  7mich 


THE    TRUE  BEAUTY.  1 55 

more  shall  your  heavenly  Father  clothe  you  ? 
All  things  work  together^  — here  is  unity  in  that 
which  seemed  so  diverse.  All  tilings ^ — the  cir- 
cumstances that  we  thought  so  much  against  us ; 
all  things  work  together  that  we  be  conformed  to 
the  image  of  His  Son.  That  is  the  beauty  up  to 
which  all  things  are  to  lead  us,  — all  the  coarse 
round  of  daily  life,  all  the  busy  toil,  all  the  little 
passing  touches  and  contact  of  the  thousand 
things  about  us  every  day  are  to  make  us  like 
unto  Him  who  is  the  fairest  among  ten  thousand, 
and  the  altogether  lovely. 

What,  then,  have  we  to  do  ?  Receive  Him. 
Open  the  door  of  the  heart,  and  leave  it  open 
to  the  influences  of  heaven.  Day  by  day  sur- 
render yourself  with  a  brave  trust  to  God,  car- 
rying ever  this  glad  confidence,  that  only  our 
highest,  truest,  fullest  beauty  can  satisfy  Him. 
If  only  the  grace  be  ours  rightly  to  hold  our- 
selves towards  all  things,  all  things  shall  be  the 
answer  of  this  prayer,  and  the  beauty  of  the 
Lord  our  God  shall  be  upon  us. 


156  THE    TRUE  BEAUTY, 


II. 


^^  Let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  oitr  God  be  ttpon 
7is!'  Here  is  a  prayer  for  beauty,  and  for  the 
beauty  of  God.  There  can  be  no  surer  proof 
that  we  are  created  in  the  image  and  likeness 
of  God  than  that  we  can  dream  such  a  dream, 
can  wish  such  a  wish,  can  pray  such  a  prayer. 

Let  us  see  at  the  outset  who  is  the  man  bold 
enough  to  send  this  great  petition  up  to  God. 
The  prayer  of  Moses,  the  ma7i  of  God,  is  the 
title  which  even  the  fierce  criticism  that  has 
beaten  upon  the  Psalms  has  spared  us.  We 
might  think  of  it  as  the  prayer  of  Moses,  the 
prince  of  Egypt,  —  he  who  dwells  amid  the 
luxury  and  magnificence  that  kings  do  gather 
about  themselves,  where  all  wealth,  and  art,  and 
splendor  have  enriched  the  place,  —  the  prince 
and  warrior,  the  poet  and  philosopher,  the  man 
mighty  in  deeds  and  words,  dowered  with  beauty 
of  face  and  figure,  and  having  all  that  earth's 
proudest  ambition  could  ask ;  yet  outpassing  all 
about  him,  his  soul  soars  on  the  wings  of  a  great 
desire,  yearning  for  a  deeper,  higher,  richer  ful- 
ness —  "  Let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  be 
upon  us."  But  not  such  an  one  is  he  who  comes 
before  us  here.     Moses,  the  man  of  God,  —  in  the 


THE    TRUE   BEAUTY.  1 57 

wilderness,  worn  out  with  the  murmurings  and 
wanderings  of  Israel,  burdened  with  the  cares 
of  a  people  who  are  blind  to  all  the  purposes  of 
God,  perverse,  faint-hearted,  and  grumbling.  It 
is  easy  to  think  of  such  an  one  crying  to  God 
for  strength,  for  rest,  for  patience.  But  from 
him  at  such  a  time  comes  the  cry  for  the  beauty 
of  the  Lord.  Look  well  at  it,  for  it  is  full  of 
meaning  —  God  ca?t  give  siicJi  lofty  arid  sublime 
lojigings  ojily  to  those  zvJio  live  a  life  of  self- 
surrender  and  of  service.  We  must  lose  our- 
selves in  the  service  of  others  in  order  to  get 
the  dream  and  desire  for  the  beauty  of  God. 
Selfishness  is  blindness,  deafness,  dulness.  It 
stretches  hands  greedy  to  grasp  God's  gifts  ;  it 
is  driven  by  fear  to  seek  His  care.  His  forgive- 
ness. His  heaven.  But  the  beauty  of  the  Lord 
is  only  the  longing  of  the  soul  that  lives  a  life 
of  love.  The  exceeding  great  reward  of  the 
soul  that  forgets  itself  in  the  care  for  others  is 
not  in  earth's  goods  and  glories,  but  in  desires 
thus  uplifted  and  emboldened. 

Is  it  possible  for  us  to  find  the  history  of  this 
prayer  in  the  life  of  Moses  t  A  vision  of  God's 
beauty  must  have  gone  before  this  longing. 
And  that  vision  had  been  given  to  him.  Moses 
had  taken  upon  himself  the  sins  of  Israel  and 
borne  them  before  God  with  a  petition  awful  in 


158  THE    TRUE  BEAUTY. 

its  daring  and  its  utter  self-devotion.  **  If  Thou 
wilt  foi'give  their  sin'' — then  comes  a  pause. 
He  would  fain  give  himself  a  ransom  for  this 
people.  "  If  not,  blot  vie,  I  pray  Thee,  out  of 
Thy  book  which  TJioit  hast  writteii^  With  soul 
purged  by  so  sublime  an  act,  he  looks  forth  upon 
the  vision  of  all  God's  goodness.  Is  it  then  that 
his  soul  bursts  forth  with  this  entreaty,  "  Let  the 
beattty  of  the  Lord  our  God  be  upon  us  "  ? 

This  is  the  lesson  of  all  beauty.  The  hard 
seed  must  give  itself  away  before  it  is  possible 
to  make  it  beautiful.  Think  of  the  seeds,  shape- 
less and  useless,  tied  up  in  a  packet  of  brown 
paper,  carefully  marked  with  a  long  Latin  name. 
They  may  boast  of  safety,  but  certainly  not  of 
beauty.  Listen  to  them  :  **  How  thankful  we 
ought  to  be  that  we  are  not  like  so  many  others, 
our  poor  brothers  and  sisters,  taken  by  rough 
hands,  flung  out  into  the  dirty  earth,  dungeoned 
in  the  cold  ground,  buried  under  the  snows, 
beaten  upon  by  the  rains,  nipped  by  the  frosts, 
blown  about  by  the  winds,  and  exposed  to  a 
thousand  ills.  Really  we  have  a  great  deal  to 
be  thankful  for,  —  to  be  wrapped  up  so  care- 
fully, and  screened  from  so  much  evil."  It 
almost  frightens  us  to  think  how  common  that 
sort  of  congratulation  is.  It  is  what  we  seek 
as  earth's   best,  and  pray  for  as  the  proof  of 


THE    TRUE  BEAUTY,  1 59 

Heaven's  favor.  But  it  is  only  when  the  seed  is 
flung  out,  and  buried,  that  the  dream  of  beauty- 
stirs  it.  Do  not  think  that  anybody  can  pray 
this  prayer.  The  spoke  of  the  ladder  that  you 
can  put  your  foot  upon  depends  how  far  up  you 
have  got.  Beside  this  prayer  of  Moses,  the 
man  of  God,  we  seem  to  hear  the  cry  of  Israel, 
"  Thou  hast  brought  us  up  into  the  wilderness 
to  kill  us.  Give  us  the  fleshpots  of  Egypt ; 
the  garlic  and  leeks  and  cucumbers."  The 
life  of  selfishness  cannot  get  above  leeks  and 
cucumbers.  A  prayer  like  this  can  only  be 
learned  by  a  life  of  loving  service.  It  is  not 
the  dream  of  the  poet.  It  is  not  the  vision  of 
the  artist.  It  is  the  dream  of  loveliness  that 
God  gives  to  the  life  of  love,  just  as  the  seed  that 
gives  itself  to  the  earth  finds  itself  in  the  flower. 

Let  those  who  would  take  this  prayer  and 
make  it  their  own,  consider  how  God  our  Father 
must  lojtg  to  fulfil  it,  alike  for  His  oivn  sake  and 
for  ours.  For  what  after  all  is  beauty,  but  that 
which  has  fulfilled  the  ideal  of  God  }  Beauty  is 
the  finished  work  on  which  God  has  set  His 
sign-manual.  He  Who  is  perfect  in  all  His 
works  cannot  rest  until  all  is  crowned  and  cov- 
ered with  beauty.  It  hurts  and  grieves  our 
God  when  we  delay  or  destroy  the  beauty  that 


l6o  THE    TRUE  BEAUTY. 

He  seeks  to  bestow.  Look  at  the  blessed 
Master  as  He  picks  the  flower  of  the  field  : 
"Solomon,"  saith  He,  "was  not  arrayed  like 
one  of  these."  Why  not.-^  If  the  heavenly 
Father  so  clothe  the  grass  of  the  field,  shall 
He  not  niiicJi  more  clothe  you }  Much  more. 
Yet  Solomon  was  not  so  clothed.  Why }  Be- 
cause in  the  flower  of  the  field  there  is  the 
perfect  surrender  and  response  to  the  touch  of 
God  ;  there  is  nothing  that  hinders  nor  diverts 
the  purpose  of  God,  Think  of  all  the  beauty 
of  the  world,  —  of  tree  and  flower,  the  sunshine, 
and  glory  of  the  sky,  —  and  set  beside  these 
things  that  which  is  sordid,  coarse,  selfish.  Just 
as  when  the  harper  sweeps  his  fingers  on  the 
harp,  and  all  the  melody  and  rapture  is  spoiled 
by  some  broken  string,  some  unresponsive 
chord,  the  unlovely  things  within  us  so  do  break 
upon  the  beauty  that  God  seeks. 

And  think  again,  that  this  is  the  first  thing 
that  we  are  taught  to  pray  for.  "  When  ye 
pray  say.  Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven.  Hal- 
lowed be  Thy  name.  Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy 
will  be  done  on  earth,  as  it  is  done  in  heaven'^ 
Heaven  is  the  perfection  of  beauty,  because 
there  is  the  perfect  response  to  God's  will. 
Heaven  is  but  His  finished  work.  His  realized 
ideal.     "  Thy  will  be  done  on  earth,  as  it  is 


THE    TRUE  BEAUTY.  l6l 

done  in  heaven  "  is   but  the   New  Testament 
form  of  the  Old  Testament  prayer. 

WJiat  is  this  heaiity  of  God  ? 

The  word  that  is  here  rendered  beauty  has  a 
meaning  that  we  do  not  usually  associate  with 
it.  Elsewhere  this  word  is  translated  pleasant- 
ness. It  is  used  to  describe  the  paths  of  wisdom. 
It  is  the  word  that  sets  forth  the  friendship  of 
Jonathan  and  David,  —  they  were  pleasant  in 
their  lives.  So  we  may  read  it,  "  Let  the  pleas- 
antness of  the  Lord  our  God  be  upon  us."  There 
is  a  beauty  that  awes  ;  that  marks  off  other 
things  as  poor  and  mean  ;  a  beauty  that  sets  a 
great  gulf  between  itself  and  others.  And  there 
is  a  beauty  that  gladdens,  and  delights,  and 
sweetens.  There  is  the  beauty  of  the  sun,  — 
vast,  sublime,  quenching  the  light  of  the  stars, 
filling  all  the  worlds,  a  glory  too  dazzling  to  be 
looked  upon,  a  beauty  that  is  blinding.  And 
there  is  the  beauty  of  the  flower  —  buttercup 
or  daisy ;  a  thing  so  simple,  finding  its  home  in 
the  common  grass,  lighting  up  some  patch  so 
as  to  gladden  the  heart  of  the  city  toiler,  or 
to  whisper  sweet  messages  to  some  little  sick 
child.  This  is  the  beauty  that  is  prayed  for 
here,  —  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  is  that 
which  is  simple,  pleasant,  lowly,  sweet. 

M 


1 62  THE   TRUE  BEAUTY. 

In  this  sense^  how  largely  this  prayer  is  already 
answered.  As  we  think  of  it,  everything  seems 
full  of  His  beauty.  All  nature  declares  it.  The 
whole  world  illustrates  it.  What  a  sermon  on 
beauty  is  every  tree  of  the  wood  !  Stand  in  the 
orchard  and  look  at  the  black  trunk,  twisted 
and  gnarled  into  curves  of  beauty.  Follow  the 
branches,  peeping  here  and  there  amid  the  green 
leaves  and  dainty  blossoms  of  pink  and  white. 
The  shape,  the  color,  the  play  of  light  and 
shade  —  what  a  thing  of  beauty  it  is,  to  please 
and  gladden.  Then  come  again  and  gather  the 
ripened  fruit  —  what  fairness  of  form,  what 
richness  of  color.  And  not  only  good  for  food, 
but  pleasant  to  the  taste,  for  in  our  very  eating 
God  cares  about  the  pleasantness  of  things. 
And  that  every  sense  may  be  gratified,  the  very 
blossoms  must  be  enriched  with  fragrance,  and 
the  tree  becomes  the  home  of  birds,  that  they 
may  gladden  us  with  their  sweet  music. 

Again,  What  a  world  of  pleasantness  is  it  that 
God  gives  us  in  the  relationships  of  life.  In  the 
little  children,  with  their  tenderness  and  trust, 
are  a  thousand  charms.  What  pleasantness  is 
there  in  home  and  in  all  the  blessedness  of  love ; 
in  friendships  that  soothe  and  gladden  life ;  in 
the  old  age  crowned  with  beauty.  How  much 
of  the  pleasantness  of  life  comes  from  the  fresh- 


THE    TRUE  BEAUTY.  1 63 

ness  of  things,  the  daily  changes,  the  simple 
charms  of  common  work.  And  how  much  there 
is  in  the  healing  balm  of  time ;  in  sunny  hope ; 
in  our  power  to  sing  and  laugh,  as  well  as  in  our 
power  to  work  and  pray.  The  pleasantness  of 
the  Lord  our  God  is  upon  us. 

Then  again,  TJiis  prayer  has  been  answered  in 
tJie  life  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  **  He  that 
hath  seen  Me,"  saith  He,  *'hath  seen  the 
Father."  And  of  that  life,  the  beauty,  the 
crown,  the  glory  is  its  pleasantness.  Men  had 
dreams  of  the  Most  High  as  one  amidst  thun- 
ders and  lightnings,  from  whom  the  people  fled, 
crying,  "  Let  not  God  speak  with  us,  lest  we 
die."  And  lo,  there  comes  the  little  Babe  of 
Bethlehem,  the  "  Fear  not "  of  God  to  the  world. 
That  He  may  draw  near  to  us,  and  draw  us  near 
to  Him,  He  accepts  all  the  conditions  of  our 
life,  and  bends  toiling  as  the  carpenter  at  the 
bench.  He  goes  forth  to  preach,  but  does  not 
startle  with  the  cry,  "  Repent,  repent."  He  sits 
upon  the  mountain-top,  under  the  open  heaven, 
without  mystery  or  awe.  He  points  to  the 
flowers  of  the  field  and  to  the  fowls  of  the  air, 
and  teaches  men  of  the  tender  care  of  the 
heavenly  Father.  How  pleasantly  He  looked 
is  seen  as  the  little  children  come  trooping  up 
to  Him  and  gather  at  His  feet.     Listen  as  He 


164  THE    TRUE  BEAUTY. 

stands  and  cries,  "  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  that 
labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you 
rest.  Take  My  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of 
Me  ;  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart."  Pleas- 
antness is  the  keynote  of  His  religion.  He  tells 
His  disciples  not  to  have  long  faces,  like  the 
Pharisees.  They  are  not  to  look  melancholy, 
but  are  to  let  their  light  sJiine.  "  Be  of  good 
cheer"  is  the  constant  watchword  upon  His 
lips.  The  first  sermon  He  preaches  is  on  the 
text,  "Do  not  fret  or  fear."  Never  was  there 
one  who  so  loathed  and  hated  sin,  and  yet  He 
looked  and  spoke  so  pleasantly  that  the  publi- 
cans and  sinners  were  always  drawing  near  to 
hear  Him,  and  the  outcast  found  in  Him  a 
refuge  and  strength.  Never  did  any  preach 
such  wonderful  truths,  and  yet  the  common 
people  heard  Him  gladly.  Pleasantness  finds  in 
Him  its  perfection.  He  was  always  busy,  and 
sometimes  had  no  leisure  so  much  as  to  eat ; 
and  yet  nobody  ever  came  to  Him  to  be  sent 
away,  or  to  be  told  to  call  again,  or  to  be  hastily 
dealt  with.  There  was  always  room  for  the 
poorest  to  get  at  Him  ;  and  the  neediest  could 
find  all  that  they  longed  for. 

Do  you  turn  away  from  this  and  say  that  sin 
is  deep  and  terrible,  that  it  needs  a  treatment 
more  severe  than    this    generous   diet  .'*     Well, 


THE    TRUE  BEAUTY.  165 

look  at  Christ  in  His  treatment  of  sin.  His 
own  disciples  have  agreed  to  refer  to  Him  their 
miserable  dispute  as  to  which  of  them  should  be 
the  greatest.  How  does  He  settle  it  1  What  an 
opportunity  it  afforded  Him  for  severely  reprov- 
ing them,  —  for  pointing  out  the  miseries  of 
ambition  and  the  perils  of  strife.  He  might 
have  warned  them  of  the  results  of  such  a  spirit 
on  the  interests  of  His  kingdom,  that  noth- 
ing could  more  certainly  hinder  and  oppose  it. 
Look  at  them  grouped  about  Him.  There  is 
Peter,  with  parted  lips  and  eyes  ablaze,  and  his 
partisans  are  ranged  at  his  side.  There  is  John, 
the  son  of  thunder,  on  the  other  side,  and  those 
of  his  party  about  him.  There  is  Judas,  doubt- 
ful, ready  to  side  with  the  successful  leader. 
And  sitting  in  the  midst  is  Jesus.  He  lifts  His 
face  and  beckons  with  a  smile  a  little  lad,  calling 
him  by  name.  There  stood  the  little  fellow  by 
the  side  of  the  gracious  Lord.  And  He  laid 
His  hand  upon  the  child  ;  the  little  face  turned 
wonderingly  upward  :  "  Whosoever  shall  humble 
himself  as  this  little  child,  the  same  is  greatest 
in  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

How  startling  it  is  to  read  those  words  amidst 
the  stern  utterances  of  Isaiah,  when  he  has  thun- 
dered against  the  sins  of  the  people.  —  ''Come 
now,   let    us  reason   together^   saith    the    Lord  : 


1 66  THE    TRUE  BEAUTY. 

though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  as 
white  as  snow ;  though  they  be  red  like  crim- 
son, they  shall  be  as  wool."  God  never  breaks 
men's  will.  Break  the  will  indeed  !  You  might 
as  well  break  a  man's  leg  to  teach  him  to  walk. 
How  much  of  the  man  is  left  when  you  have 
broken  the  will  t  Well  does  George  Eliot  say, 
"The  first  requirement  of  any  soul  to  be  good 
is  love ;  the  second  is  reverence'' 


XIII. 
THE  VISION   OF   ISAIAH. 

**  Whom  shall  I  send?  or  who  will  go  for  us?  "  — ha.  vi.  8. 

Let  us  set  before  us  the  story  of  the  vision. 
In  the  year  that  King  Uzziah  died.  Of  all  the 
kings  of  Israel  none  had  done  so  much  for  the 
nation  as  king  Uzziah,  save  only  David.  Solo- 
mon's greatness  was  largely  inherited.  He  cer- 
tainly stands  a  figure  more  splendid  than  Uzziah, 
but  not  of  as  great  service.  Coming  to  the 
throne  when  a  lad  of  sixteen,  for  more  than 
fifty  years  Uzziah  reigned  in  Jerusalem  wisely 
and  well.  Under  the  guidance  of  one  Zecha- 
riah,  of  whom  all  we  know  is  this,  that  he  "had 
understanding  in  the  vision  of  God,"  the  youth 
Uzziah  sought  the  Lord,  and  as  long  as  he 
sought  the  Lord,  God  made  him  to  prosper. 
He  drove  back  the  Philistines  and  many  another 
tribe  that  had  encroached  upon  Israel's  domain, 
so  that  his  name  was  spread  abroad  even  to 
Egypt.     At  home  he  was  always  busy   seeing 

167 


1 68  THE   VISION  OF  ISAIAH. 

after  the  welfare  of  his  people.  He  strength- 
ened Jerusalem  with  fortified  towers,  and  set  up 
towers  for  the  protection  of  those  in  the  pastures 
and  plains.  Careful  about  the  water  supply,  he 
digged  many  wells.  He  had  husbandmen  busied 
with  cattle  :  and  planted  vines  on  the  mountain 
slopes.  **He  loved  husbandry,"  we  read,  an 
honest  and  healthy  love  that  it  were  well  if  we 
could  all  encourage  and  exercise.  He  turned  to 
account  the  inventions  of  cunning  men.  Alto- 
gether a  man  whose  name  spread  far  abroad, 
associated  with  all  that  was  beneficent  and  pros- 
perous :  ''  he  was  marvellously  helped,"  we  are 
told,  "till  he  was  strong." 

But  —  ah,  there  comes  this  black  and  dread- 
ful but  —  But  when  Jie  was  strong  his  heart  was 
lifted  tip  to  his  destruction.  There  came  a  day  — 
probably  some  day  of  high  festival,  when  he 
made  a  feast  to  his  lords  and  chief  captains ; 
and  the  power  of  the  wine  and  the  power  of  a 
yet  more  intoxicating  flattery  prompted  him  to 
a  deed  that  was  his  ruin.  Arrayed  in  all  his 
splendor  the  king  comes  to  the  temple  and 
demands  in  his  haughty  pride  to  usurp  the 
authority  of  the  priest,  and  to  burn  incense  on 
the  altar.  The  priests,  those  of  them  that  were 
valiant  men,  rose  up,  and  stayed  the  intruder, 
king  though   he  was.     For  a  moment   Uzziah 


THE    VISION  OF  ISAIAH.  1 69 

stood  face  to  face  with  the  priests,  the  golden 
censer  in  his  hand,  he  furious  at  their  opposi- 
tion. Would  they  lift  their  hand  against  the 
king,  and  such  a  king  as  he  ?  Then  suddenly 
the  rage  resulted,  as  it  is  believed  to  have  done 
in  other  cases,  in  the  manifestation  of  leprosy. 
Suddenly  on  that  face,  flushed  in  its  anger  un- 
der the  royal  crown,  spread  the  ghastly  white- 
ness. He  felt  that  God  had  smitten  him.  A 
king  no  more;  one  from  whom  all  men  shrank 

—  he  went  forth  from  the  palace  and  throne 
and  court.  And  all  the  nation  spake  of  him 
with  bated  breath,  suppressing  the  very  name 

—  ^^  He  is  a  leper T 

In  the  year  that  king  Uzziah  died.  Solemnly 
as  it  must  have  impressed  all,  yet  we  can  think 
that  there  was  one  to  whom  it  meant  more  than 
to  any  other  in  the  land.  It  was  the  young- 
prophet  Isaiah.  Loving  ardently  as  he  did  the 
welfare  of  his  nation,  seeing  things  with  all  the 
glow  and  glory  of  a  seer  and  poet,  his  soul  filled 
with  the  fire  of  enthusiasm  in  its  first  love,  we 
can  think  of  him  stirred  to  admiration,  almost 
to  adoration,  by  all  that  this  Uzziah  had  done 
for  Israel.  Then  comes  the  terrible  ending  of 
it  all  —  overwhelming  him.  King  Uzziah  is 
dead,  and  who  is  there  to  take  his  place } 
Who  so  many-sided .''     Who  so  brave  in  battle. 


I/O  THE   VISION  OF  ISAIAH. 

SO  skilful  in  understanding  the  time ;  the  ter- 
ror of  his  foes,  the  idol  of  his  people?  All  that 
greatness  and  glory  ends  in  leprosy  and  death ! 
Such  a  man  can  sink  suddenly  from  such  a 
height  to  such  a  depth  !  Is  there  then  any 
hope  for  anybody  ?  Is  there  any  good  in  any- 
thing ?  Most  of  us  know  such  seasons,  and  all 
the  dark  questionings  they  bring  with  them ; 
the  horrid  whispers  that  come  out  of  that 
gloom.  The  effect  is  like  the  effect  of  an 
earthquake  when  one  is  afraid  to  set  foot  on 
the  uncertain  earth,  or  to  lay  a  hand  on  the 
uncertain  rocks  —  everything  reels  to  destruc- 
tion. 

And  now  it  is  that  as  to  Moses  in  the  desert, 
and  as  to  Elijah  under  the  juniper-tree,  there 
comes  to  Isaiah  the  vision  that  transforms  him. 

/  saw  the  Lord  sittijig  7ip07i  a  throne  high  and 
lifted  tip.  The  gloom  suddenly  gave  place  to  a 
glory  blinding  with  excess  of  light.  What  was 
Uzziah  in  all  his  greatness  now  as  the  Lord  sat 
upon  His  throne  high  and  lifted  up  ?  Here  were 
the  shifting  scenes  of  human  life  —  the  shadows 
that  come  and  go,  the  pageants  that  move  to 
the  silence  and  dust  of  the  grave.  There  high 
and  lifted  up  —  above  all  time,  above  all  change, 
was  the  Eternal.  Uzziah  the  king,  Uzziah  the 
leper,  Uzziah  the  corpse  —  to  set  the  heart  upon 


THE    VISION  OF  ISAIAH.  171 

him  was  to  be  disappointed,  deserted,  desolate. 
The  Lord  is  Kiiig  —  that  is  the  centre  of  all 
things,  the  true  home  and  refuge  of  the  soul. 
Here  is  sure  ground  for  our  trust ;  here  all  the 
adoration  of  the  soul  finds  fitting  room  and 
sphere,  and  worthy  subject  for  its  service  and 
worship.  And  ranged  in  serried  ranks  around 
the  Most  High  were  the  cherubim  with  veiled 
faces  and  veiled  feet,  bowing  low  in  worship. 
And  like  the  sound  of  many  waters  rolled  their 
majestic  song — "Holy,  holy,  holy  is  Jehovah 
of  hosts,  the  whole  earth  is  full  of  His  glory." 
Thus  then  with  conceptions  stretched  to  the 
infinite,  above  the  bounds  of  Israel  and  of  earth 
itself,  Isaiah  sees  that  the  true  greatness  and 
the  true  glory  and  the  true  strength  cannot  be 
in  huge  armies  or  conquered  Philistines,  not  in 
wealth  of  sheep  or  oxen  or  terraced  vineyards. 
All  that  is  abiding,  all  that  is  worthy,  all  that 
is  really  glorious  is  in  an  utter  surrender  to  the 
service  of  the  most  High  God. 

But  now  comes  that  which  is  surely  the  won- 
derful part  of  this  vision.  Amidst  all  this  ex- 
ceeding joy,  what  can  be  wanting.'*  The  Lord  of 
hosts  sits  upon  His  throne,  —  He  with  Whom  to 
speak  is  to  do :  to  will  is  to  create.  Here  are  the 
angels  that  do  excel  in  strength,  hearkening  to 


1/2  THE   VISION  OF  ISAIAH. 

the  voice  of  His  word.  Yet  here  it  is  that  the 
Lord  Himself  asks,  ''Who7?i  shall  I  send?  and 
who  zvill  go  for  tcsf  And  in  the  silence  that 
follows,  we  might  expect  the  cherubim  to  answer 
it.  "  Are  we  not  all  ministering  spirits  sent 
forth  to  minister }  "  Swift  as  the  light,  glorious 
as  the  sun,  sinless  as  the  heavens  —  are  they 
not  fitted  perfectly  for  His  service,  and  eager  to 
do  it  ?  What  is  this  want  of  God  amidst  His 
majesty  and  greatness }  From  earth  and  from 
us  there  must  come  the  answer  that  alone  can 
break  that  silence  and  meet  that  want  —  God, 
the  glorious  God  of  heaven  amidst  cherubim  and 
seraphim  waits  for  the  reply  from  earth  and 
from  man  —  Here  a^n  /,  send  7ne. 

Let  us  think  of  this  deeply  and  earnestly,  for 
it  is  a  wonderful  thing ;  the  question  of  God  that 
only  man  can  answer  —  the  want  of  heaven  that 
only  earth  can  meet.  We  may  call  it  boldly  — 
the  dependence  of  God  npon  htwian  service.  That 
the  question  should  come  at  all  is  a  wonder; 
that  it  should  come  when  it  did  was  much  more 
wonderful.  The  angels  must  have  marvelled  to 
hear  such  a  word  in  the  year  that  king  Uzziah 
died.  Whom  shall  I  send }  Had  not  God 
raised  up  this  king  and  strengthened  him  and 
prospered  him  and  made  him  great }  And  yet 
the  very  goodness  of  God  and  the  greatness  that 


THE   VISION  OF  ISAIAH.        .  1 73 

He  had  given  was  made  but  to  minister  to  a 
pride  that  overstepped  all  bounds.  And  the 
chosen  and  favored  king  is  smitten  as  a  leper. 
And  now  is  another  of  this  evil  race  to  be 
chosen  ?  Will  God  trust  yet  another  with  the 
glory  of  His  service  and  commission.?  So  it  is, 
and  so  it  must  be. 

St.  Paul  uses  the  phrase — "The  God  of 
hope."  It  is  a  great  title.  With  unfailing  trust 
God  turns  yet  again  to  seek  a  messenger  for 
His  service.  Notwithstanding  the  long  years 
of  weary  failure,  of  cruel  selfishness  and  suffer- 
ing and  want,  —  old  ills  finding  their  resurrec- 
tion with  every  new  opportunity,  notwithstanding 
the  cruel  forgetfulness  of  the  Most  High,  the 
mad  rebellion  against  Him,  yet  the  God  of  hope 
asks,  "  Whom  shall  I  send }  and  who  will  go  for 
us } "  And  if  we  ask,  what  is  the  source  and 
strength  of  this  hope,  we  may  find  the  answer. 
Have  you  noticed  in  the  early  history  of  man  a 
trace  of  sadness,  almost  a  sense  of  failure }  *'It 
repented  the  Lord  that  He  had  made  man,  and 
it  grieved  Him  at  His  heart."  But  do  you  see 
how  the  shadow  melts  away,  and  the  tone  grows 
even  more  jubilant  and  hopeful  until  it  reaches 
the  rapturous  outburst,  '*  Glory  to  God  in  the 
highest ;  peace  on  earth ;  good-will  towards  men." 
Then  breaks  out  the  enthusiasm  of  humanity, 


1/4  THE    VISION  OF  ISAIAH. 

and  all  leads  straight  on  and  up  to  the  splen- 
dor of  His  triumph  and  coronation.  Is  it  not 
that  ever  amidst  all  the  rebellion  and  degrada- 
tion and  failures  of  our  humanity  there  stands 
before  God  the  finished,  perfect,  proper  man 
Christ  Jesus  ?  There  is  God's  hope  and  satis- 
faction —  the  glorious  token  and  promise  of  what 
our  poor  humanity  can  be.  There  is  the  Pattern 
Man  and  every  force  in  the  world  is  set  to  this 
one  end  —  that  we  be  conformed  to  His  image. 
The  Man  Christ  Jesus  is  the  hope  of  God — as 
He  is  our  hope. 

See  how  this  dependence  of  God  npon  man  rnns 
through  the  Bible  fjvm  end  to  end.  The  great 
promise  that  knits  it  in  one  living  unity  from 
Genesis  to  Revelations  is  the  promise  that  "  the 
seed  of  the  wo7nan  shall  bruise  the  serpent's 
head"  —  the  seed  of  the  woman.  As  by  man 
came  sin,  by  man  must  come  the  world's  redemp- 
tion and  deliverance.  All  the  successive  reve- 
lations of  God  have  been  made  through  men  to 
men.  Abraham  and  Moses,  Elijah  and  Isaiah, 
the  Apostles,  and  all  the  long  line  of  emancipa- 
tors of  the  people  —  reformers  and  prophets. 
It  is  ever  "  the  seed  of  the  woman  "  that  must 
bruise  the  serpent's  head.  The  glorious  Son  of 
God,  our  adorable  Redeemer,  must  be  born  the 
little  Babe  of  Bethlehem,  bone  of  our  bone  and 


THE   VISION   OF  ISAIAH.  175 

flesh  of  our  flesh,  that  He  may  be  our  Brother 
and  Friend  as  well  as  our  Saviour.  He  goes 
forth  to  His  great  work  as  the  man  filled  with 
the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Son  of  Man,  as  He  delighted 
to  call  Himself ;  qualified  by  that  great  gift, 
which  is  ours  for  the  asking,  to  accomplish  His 
great  work.  See  how  as  He  stands  on  the 
threshold  of  His  ministry,  the  tempter  meets 
Him,  "  If  Thou  be  the  Son  of  God  command 
that  these  stones  be  made  bread."  At  once 
there  comes  the  answer,  '*  It  is  written  man.'' 
Ma?i  —  thou  comest  against  me  as  the  Son  of 
God,  but  I  come  against  thee  as  one  of  my 
poor  brethren,  and  avail  myself  only  of  the 
power  that  they  may  have.  *'It  is  written 
7nan.'' 

And  in  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ  nothing  is 
more  pathetic  than  His  dependence  upon  the 
response  of  the  human  heart,  ^^  He  could  there 
do  no  mighty  work "  we  read  of  Nazareth, 
^^  coidd  do  no  mighty  work  because  of  their 
unbelief."  That  Almighty  arm  was  stricken  as 
if  paralyzed ;  the  words  of  authority  died  upon 
His  lips.  We  hear  Him  sighing,  "The  harvest 
truly  is  plenteous,  but  the  laborers  are  few." 
Then  with  what  entreaty  He  turns  to  His  dis- 
ciples and  says,  *'  Pray  ye  therefore  the  Lord  of 
the  harvest  that  He  would  send  forth  laborers 


1/6  THE    VISION  OF  ISAIAH. 

into  His  harvest."  It  is  as  if  the  prayers  of  the 
people  put  Him  into  possession  of  His  power ; 
the  prayers  of  the  people  afforded  the  opportu- 
nity of  His  enriching  the  Church. 

And  in  those  figures  of  closest  union  and 
intimacy  with  the  Church  there  is  this  same 
great  underlying  truth  of  dependence  upon  us. 
Speaking  of  the  vine  and  the  branches  He  saith, 
*'  Abide  in  Me,  for  apart  from  Me,  severed 
from  Me,  ye  can  do  nothing."  A  truth  indeed 
that  we  need  ever  to  remember  and  to  heed. 
But  have  you  ever  thought  of  the  other  side  of 
the  truth  }  The  branch  can  do  nothing  without 
the  root ;  but  the  ivot  can  do  nothing  witliont  the 
branch.  The  hidden  life  is  ours  only  in  Christ ; 
but  Christ's  life  and  light  and  love  can  only  flow 
into  the  world  through  us. 

There  is  the  same  truth  in  that  word  of  the 
apostle  Paul,  '^  the  Church  zvJiich  is  His  Body!' 
What  is  the  body  but  the  means  by  which  the 
spirit  communicates  with  the  world  .?  The  heart 
of  pity  needs  the  life  that  translates  it  into  love ; 
the  great  thought  needs  the  lips  to  utter  it  as 
truth  and  to  let  it  shine  in  the  life. 

With  the  same  unfailing  confidence  in  those 
who  had  failed  and  forsaken  Him,  the  Lord 
Jesus  turns  to  His  disciples  after  His  resurrec- 
tion.   They  have  come,  asking  Him,  "Wilt  Thou 


THE    VISION  OF  ISAIAH.  I// 

at  this  time  restore  again  the  kingdom  to  Israel  ? " 
And  lo  !  He  sacredly  lays  the  accomplishment  of 
His  great  work  upon  them.  '^Ye  shall  receive 
power  after  that  the  Holy  Ghost  is  come  upon 
you,  and  ye  shall  be  witnesses  unto  Me."  In 
them  and  through  them  the  kingdoms  of  the 
world  are  to  be  made  kingdoms  of  our  God  and 
of  His  Christ. 


This  is  the  sublime  appeal  of  the  Most  High 
God  to  us.  And  on  our  answer  depends  the 
very  worth  of  life.  We  are  not  living  rightly 
until  we  are  right  with  God.  The  lower  cham- 
bers of  our  being  alone  are  occupied  until  then, 
the  store-rooms  and  basements  and  cellars  only. 
We  stoop  and  creep.  We  do  stand  up  in  our 
full  height  only  in  the  service  of  God.  These 
three  great  gifts  together  make  up  the  great- 
ness and  glory,  the  blessedness  and  beauty  of 
life ;  the  clear  perception  that  sees  Him  as  su- 
preme :  the  opened  ear  that  hears  His  voice ; 
and  then  the  swift  and  glad  surrender  that  cries, 
^^  Here  ain  /,  send  me T 


N 


XIV. 
THE   NEW   WEAPON. 

"And  he  being  girded  with  a  new  sword,  thought  to  have 
slain  David."  —  2  Sa77i.  xxi.  16. 

The  weapon  is  called  a  sword,  but  what  it 
was  is  doubtful.  The  Revised  Version  calls  it 
new  armor,  and  has  in  the  margin  the  word  stajf. 
The  Septuagint  calls  it  a  club.  The  learned  in 
such  matters  tell  us  that  it  is  some  rare  and 
unknown  implement  of  war,  whose  terror  lay  in 
the  fact  of  its  novelty,  —  something  that  David 
had  never  seen,  and  did  not  know  how  to  meet. 
We  may  call  it  something  new. 

The  Philistines  were  entrenched  in  the  strong 
cities  of  the  plain,  and  in  order  to  attack  them, 
the  little  band  of  Israelites  had  to  go  over  the 
steep  heights  and  rough  places.  So  it  was  that 
David  had  gone  down  with  his  companions 
to  battle  with  the  enemy.  But  he  was  wearied 
with  the  long  march,  and  faint  with  hunger, 
and  worn  out  with  battle.     Then  there  came  out 

178 


THE  NEW    WEAPON.  1 79 

against  him  the  new  champion  of  the  Philistines, 
Ishbi-Benob.  He  has  armed  himself  with  his 
coat  of  mail,  and  taken  his  huge  spear ;  and 
carrying  with  him  this  new  and  infallible  some- 
thing, he  sees  his  opportunity.  In  all  the  assur- 
ance of  victory  he  rushes  upon  David.  But 
against  him  came  Abishai,  the  brave  comrade 
of  the  king,  and  smote  the  great  Ishbi-Benob, 
and  left  him  dead  upon  the  battlefield,  and  bore 
away  in  triumph  this  new  and  terrible  inven- 
tion, and  hung  it  up  amongst  the  trophies  which 
enriched  the  palace  of  the  king.  Such  was  the 
history  of  this  new  something,  —  this  anony- 
mous weapon. 

We  may  find  in  the  story  a  parable  with  many 
lessons.  We  see  in  it  a  picture  not  of  the  enemies 
of  David  only,  but  of  Him  who  is  David's  Lord 
and  ours.  What  trophies  hang  in  the  palace  of 
our  King,  what  triumphs  from  all  lands !  What 
edicts,  and  bulls,  and  plots,  what  invincible 
weapons  have  been  shaped,  what  armadas  have 
been  fitted  against  our  Lord  the  King !  And 
yet  He  lives ;  and  yet  He  reigns  throned  to-day 
in  the  hearts  of  His  people,  never  more  beloved, 
never  mightier  or  more  honored,  than  at  this 
hour. 

It  was  a  grand  acknowledgment  of  the  power 
of  David  that  they  had  to  get  a  new  weapon 


l8o  THE  NEW   WEAPON. 

with  which  to  slay  him.  I  see  this  great  family 
of  giants  gathered  in  council.  "It  is  no  good," 
they  say.  "  We  must  get  something  new.  He 
is  more  than  a  match  for  us  with  the  sword. 
And  the  spear  avails  us  nothing.  Who  was  a 
finer  spearman  than  our  brother  Goliath,  the 
champion  of  our  ranks  }  And  yet  this  David, 
though  but  a  stripling,  smote  him  with  sling 
and  stone  before  ever  our  Goliath  had  him 
within  reach,  —  smote  him  with  a  pebble,  and 
cut  off  the  champion's  head  with  his  own  sword, 
and  carried  head  and  sword  into  the  tent  of 
Saul.     We  must  find  something  new." 

Then  this  Ishbi-Benob  set  to  work,  and  at 
last  he  hit  upon  a  weapon  warranted  to  lay  any 
man  low.  He  went  down  to  the  smith,  and 
shaped,  and  hammered,  and  sharpened  it.  He 
took  it  to  the  priests,  and  they  wove  about  it 
their  spells,  and  muttered  over  it  their  incanta- 
tions, and  declared  it  irresistible.  But  lo  !  Ishbi- 
Benob  is  slain,  and  his  new  weapon  hangs  with 
the  rest. 

Being  girded  tvith  a  new  weapon.  It  is  strange 
what  a  fascination  there  is  in  the  new.  I  have 
no  sympathy  with  those  who  are  always  bewail- 
ing "  the  good  old  times."  My  dear  sir,  the  good 
new  times,  thank  God,  are  a  great  deal  better ; 
and  they  are  going  to  be  a  great  deal   better 


THE  NEW    WEAPON.  l8l 

Still.  I  am  always  very  sorry  for  those  poor 
folks  who  get  that  sort  of  crick  in  the  neck 
which  keeps  them  looking  backward  like  Lot's 
wife.  No ;  let  the  dead  bury  their  dead.  But 
whilst  I  do  not  sneer  at  the  electric  light  because 
our  fathers  used  tallow  candles,  yet,  in  my 
admiration  of  the  new  illumination,  I  am  not 
going  to  try  and  do  without  the  sun.  Bring  up 
the  latest  phases  of  unbelief,  or  misbelief,  or  no 
belief,  and  set  them  alongside  that  strength  of 
faith,  that  sunny  peace,  that  blessed  hope  in 
which  our  fathers  lived  and  died.  What  are 
you  going  to  give  us  in  place  of  that.?  Can 
anything  new  produce  such  an  one  as  Jesus 
Christ }  or  inspire  such  love  and  endurance  and 
goodness  as  millions  have  found  in  Him  }  No  ; 
the  enemy  of  our  Master  has  to  be  perpetually 
forging  some  new  weapon  against  Him,  but  we 
do  not  fear  the  blustering  giant.  The  heathen 
may  rage,  and  the  people  imagine  a  vain  thing, 
but  the  decree  standeth  sure,  ''  Yet  have  I  set 
My  King  upon  my  holy  hill.'"     He  must  reign. 

What  to-day  of  the  difficulties  that  were  going 
of  old  to  destroy  the  Word  of  God,  and  the 
power  of  His  truth  .?  Come  back  over  the  cen- 
turies and  see  these  two  monks,  who  shut  the 
door  carefully,  and  talk  in  whispered  confi- 
dences :  — 


1 82  THE  NEW   WEAPON. 

"  What  ails  thee,  my  brother  ?  "  saith  one. 

The  other  answers  sorrowfully,  "  A  sickness 
that  I  fear  hath  no  human  remedy,  —  and  I 
sometimes  fear  no  other.  Hitherto  the  Word  of 
God  hath  been  my  stay  and  strength,  but  these 
recent  discoveries  have  driven  me  to  despair." 

"  How  so  .''  "  saith  his  friend. 

**  Alas  !  they  who  know  most  of  these  things 
do  tell  us  that  the  world  is  roimd.  How,  then, 
can  there  be  any  more  any  corners  of  the  earth, 
such  as  this  Book  saith  t  And  if  the  earth  do 
indeed  move  around  the  sun,  what  becomes  of 
the  rising  and  setting  of  which  the  Lord  speaks  t 
And  if  that  goes,  what  can  we  keep }  You  see, 
my  brother,  how  all  the  system  of  the  earth 
crumbles  under  our  feet." 

We  smile  at  the  perplexity  of  those  poor 
monks,  and  to  us  nothing  seems  more  natural 
than  that  the  blessed  Lord  should  use  the  popu- 
lar way  of  speaking  of  these  things.  But  to 
them  it  was  a  weapon  so  new  and  terrible  that 
they  could  find  nothing  desperate  enough  to  de- 
stroy it.  I  have  seen  the  great  waves  rise  up  and 
come  arched  and  swelling  against  the  craft,  as  if 
nothing  could  stand  before  them.  But  lo,  they 
have  broken  about  the  bows,  flung  into  spray, 
and  have  passed  harmlessly  away.  And  look- 
ing back  at  them,  I  have  wondered  that  I  ever 


THE  NEW    WEAPON.  1 83 

feared.  "  The  voice  of  the  Lord  is  upon  the 
waters;  yea,  the  Lord  sitteth  King  for  ever." 

Li  the  future  are  a  thousand  changes  that 
must  come,  and  that  shall  affect  the  whole  fab- 
ric of  society.  But  amidst  all  changes  one  thing 
is  sure  —  Love  is  supreme^  and  shall  be  for  ever. 
There  is  no  new  weapon  ever  to  be  forged  that 
shall  conquer  Love.  Love  blunts  and  breaks  the 
sword ;  Love  laughs  at  the  spear,  she  turns  the 
weapons  of  war  into  the  peaceful  ploughshare, 
and  bends  the  spear  into  the  sickle  that  cuts  the 
golden  corn.  The  Son  of  God  loved  me,  and 
GAVE  Himself  for  me  :  there  is  the  assurance 
of  His  triumph  in  that  personal  love  for  every 
man,  and  in  that  personal  redemption.  In  vain 
do  men  seek  new  weapons  against  Him.  He 
must  reign  Who  is  the  King  of  Love :  for  Love 
is  invincible,  and  Love  is  immortal. 

Then  I  think  we  may  find  in  the  words  an 
applicatio7i  to  our  individual  experience.  "He 
being  girded  with  a  new  sword,  thought  to  have 
slain  David."  So  it  is  that  the  enemy  girds 
himself  with  the  new  and  unknown.  We  stand, 
it  may  be,  at  the  threshold  of  some  great  change, 
looking  out  into  the  unproved.  And  as  we  look 
into  the  darkness  our  fear  shapes  a  thousand 
forms  of  ill.  It  is  so  easy  to  see  giants  when 
we  are  faint,  and  when  it  is  dark  enough.     Any- 


1 84  THE  NEW   WEAPON. 

body  can  laugh  at  7'eal  giants  —  great,  clumsy, 
knock-kneed  creatures,  who  find  it  hard  work 
to  keep  themselves  upright.  It  is  the  fancied 
giants  that  torture  us :  the  giants  of  our  fears 
that  want  so  much  killing,  and  have  such  a  hor- 
rible habit  of  coming  to  life  again.  I  think  of 
the  young  man  or  young  woman  who  has  come 
up  from  some  quiet  country  home  to  the  great 
city.  Here  life  is  a  thing  so  different  that  you 
tremble.  A  thousand  new  weapons  are  raised 
against  you.  There  is  the  dreary  loneliness 
that  takes  all  the  heart  out  of  one  sometimes, 
and  always  most  dreary  on  Sundays.  There 
are  the  temptations  besetting  one  on  every  side, 
and  the  old  restraints  withdrawn.  There  is  the 
scornful  laughter  of  those  who  make  a  mock  of 
goodness,  and  who  fling  their  jest  at  those  things 
which  are  to  you  most  sacred.  And  like  David 
you  are  faint,  and  wearied  often  when  this  giant 
comes  blustering,  and  thinks  to  slay  you  with  his 
new  weapon. 

And  not  only  to  the  young  do  these  changes 
come  —  but  to  those  who  can  less  easily  accom- 
modate themselves  to  new  conditions.  The 
middle-aged  or  the  old  find  themselves  com- 
pelled to  go  out,  not  knowing  whither  they  go. 
Some  business  perplexity  or  some  domestic 
trouble   has   upset  all  the  plans  of   their   life. 


THE  NEW   WEAPON.  1 85 

The  faint  heart  mutters  its  fear.  The  enemy 
puts  on  his  cruel  boastfulness.  ''  Ah,  what  wilt 
thou  do  in  this  new  difficulty  ?  How  canst  thou 
hope  to  get  out  of  this  new  trouble  ?  There  is 
no  help  for  thee  now.     There  is  none  to  deliver." 

Or  it  is  worse  still.  Some  bitter  story  of 
wrong  and  anguish,  that  can  scarcely  be  put 
into  words,  and  that  I  fear  to  touch  lest  it 
should  bruise  the  very  wounds  that  I  would 
bind.  It  hangs  over  one,  dark,  brooding,  blot- 
ting out  all  the  heavens,  and  filling  all  the 
future  with  its  gloom.  Verily,  the  enemy  has 
girded  himself  with  a  new  weapon,  and  threat- 
ens terribly. 

Let  us  make  haste  to  take  to  ourselves  the 
comfort  which  the  text  affords.  Btit  AbisJiai 
the  S071  of  Zeruiah  succored  David,  a7id  smote 
the  Philistine  and  slew  him.  Come,  come,  dear 
soul,  these  blustering  giants  are  not  to  have  it 
all  their  own  way.  Ishbi-Benob  had  a  new 
weapon,  but  Zeruiah  had  the  old,  and  he  needed 
no  other.  The  old  was  more  than  a  match  for 
the  new.  That  trusty  sword  of  his  was  not  to 
be  changed,  be  the  foeman  what  he  may,  and 
be  the  weapon  never  so  terrible.  The  old  ar- 
mor avails  :  The  word  of  God,  which  is  the 
sword  of  the  Spirit.  Abishai  succored  David : 
but  for  us  there  comes  a  greater  than  he.     The 


1 86  THE  NEW   WEAPON, 

Almighty  is  thy  helper,  and  He  saith, ''  I  luill  hold 
thee  by  thy  right  hand:  fear  not,  I  will  help  thee.'' 
Put  the  trembling  hand  in  His.  "  We  are  more 
than  conquerors  through  Him  who  loveth  us." 
Come  what  may,  let  ills  be  heaped  on  ills,  He  is 
ours  Who  can  never  fail  us,  the  great  Captain 
who  never  lost  a  battle  yet.  Listen,  and  let  the 
heart  be  thrilled  with  new  courage  as  He  speaks : 
"  All  Power  is  given  unto  Me  in  heaven  and  in 
earth :  and  lo,  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto 
the  end  of  the  world."  Let  us  sing  the  glad 
reply.  *'  Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the  valley 
of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for 
ThoUy  Thoii  art  with  me :  Thy  rod  and  Thy  staff 
they  comfort  me." 


XV. 

THE   STORY   OF   GIDEON. 

I.  THE  MAN. 

"  The  Lord  is  with  thee,  thou  mighty  man  of  valor." 

— Judges  vi.  12. 

This  Gideon  is  a  man  somewhat  overlooked, 
but  worthy  to  be  set  alongside  the  foremost 
heroes  of  the  Bible.  Many  a  smaller  man  has 
had  more  honor  than  this  hero,  at  once  gentle 
and  strong,  cautious  and  brave,  deeply  troubled 
by  the  evil  of  the  times,  and  yet  not  without  a 
great  laugh  in  his  heart  and  a  ready  humor. 

At  the  outset  it  may  be  needful  for  us  to  say 
a  word  or  two  about  this  Book  of  Judges,  with 
its  scenes  of  bloodshed,  its  heroes,  so  strange  a 
mixture  of  faith  and  fighting.  Let  us  remember 
that  it  does  not  do  for  us  to  judge  this  period 
by  our  standard  of  to-day.  The  coming  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  the  gift  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  have  lifted  the  world  into  a  new  atmos- 
phere, into  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth.    We 

187 


1 88  THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON. 

do  not  think  of  going  ^underground  amidst  the 
rough  granite  rocks  looking  for  the  flowers  and 
fruits  that  belong  to  the  more  finished  earth. 
We  have  no  right  to  look  back  to  those  ages  for 
the  softened  manners  and  humanities  which  the 
growth  of  the  years  has  brought  to  us.  Even  at 
the  beginning  of  this  century  there  were  things 
in  the  administration  of  justice  that  shock  us  of 
to-day.  What  we  have  to  remember  is  that  the 
nation  of  Israel  was  raised  up  and  called  of  God 
to  be  amongst  the  nations  of  the  earth  what  the 
judge  is  amongst  men — the  stern  guardian  of 
righteousness.  It  is  worse  than  a  heathen  no- 
tion for  us  to  imagine  that  God  chose  the  people 
of  Israel  as  His  favorites  and  sent  them  to  slay 
other  nations,  and  to  possess  their  lands.  The 
great  Father  in  heaven  holds  all  alike  dear  to 
his  heart.  And  as  for  Israel  no  nation  ever 
suffered  more  for  its  sins  than  they  did.  They 
were  to  be  the  teachers  of  righteousness :  and 
to  execute  righteousness  when  teaching  could 
avail  nothing.  Nations  like  individuals  may 
sink  down  to  depths  of  abomination  past  all 
hope,  past  all  help,  filling  the  air  with  poison, 
degrading  men  and  women  beneath  the  level  of 
the  beasts.  When  nations  are  past  mending, 
the  stern  sentence  is  spoken  that  they  be  swept 
away.     There  is  no  help  for  it.     It  is  not  pity 


THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON.  1 89 

that  would  avert  the  penalty  of  such  sin;  it  is 
only  cruelty  and  folly.  Justice  is  not  opposed 
to  love.  Justice  is  ever  the  only  attitude  of  love 
towards  sin.  So  we  read  the  commission  of 
Israel  to  deal  with  the  nations  of  Canaan,  the 
cup  of  the  Ammonites  was  now  full. 

The  people  of  Israel,  somewhat  suddenly  led 
into  possession  of  cities  and  vineyards,  grew  self- 
indulgent,  and  began  to  mix  with  the  heathen 
of  the  land  and  to  worship  their  gods.  They 
came  under  the  fascination  of  their  cruel  and 
abominable  idolatry.  Thus  forsaking  God,  they 
come  to  be  forsaken  of  Him.  And  without  Him 
they  can  do  nothing. 

Deborah  had  gone  through  the  land  recalling 
the  people  to  the  worship  of  the  Most  High, 
and  for  a  while  had  moved  them  to  His  service. 
But  once  more  they  had  settled  down  —  content 
to  dress  the  vineyard  and  reap  the  corn  ;  to  count 
the  increase  of  their  herds  and  flocks ;  and  had 
forgotten  the  lofty  life  to  which  they  had  been 
called. 

That  is  the  temptation  in  every  age.  To 
prosper  in  this  life  is  the  great  end.  The  busi- 
ness is  the  thing  for  which  we  live,  and  God 
Himself  is  asked  only  to  stand  by  and  prosper 
that.  Position  is  more  than  brotherliness.  Gold 
is  more  than  godliness.     Happiness  is  more  than 


190  THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON. 

holiness.  With  it  may  go  a  reHgion  of  a  kind 
that  is  but  an  offence  and  a  pretence  —  a  formal 
observance  of  worship,  a  half-hearted  assent  to 
the  truth.  No  man's  religion  is  worth  anything 
unless  it  is  a  power  in  the  life  that  shapes  the 
purposes,  and  masters  him ;  that  checks  the 
thought  of  gain  by  the  thought  of  the  brother's 
advantage ;  that  compels  love  and  truth  and 
generous  dealing ;  that  forbids  a  word  which 
understates  or  overstates.  Of  this  we  may  be 
always  sure — the  life  that  does  not  need  God  in 
order  to  fulfil  its  ideal  will  soon  do  without  Him. 
And  losing  God,  Israel  lost  their  faith,  their 
hope,  their  unity ;  that  which  they  made  their 
good  had  become  their  curse ;  their  prosperity 
tempted  the  desert  tribes  to  come  in  their  hosts 
—  hordes  of  wild  Arabs  mounted  on  fleet  horses 
or  camels  swarmed  like  locusts  upon  the  fig 
trees  and  vineyards,  upon  the  cornfields  and 
pastures,  destroying  what  they  could  not  carry 
away.  Down  they  swept  under  their  fierce 
leaders  Zebah  and  Zalmunna,  the  Raven  and 
the  Wolf  as  their  names  signified,  and  were  re- 
sistless. Israel,  enfeebled  and  disunited,  could 
make  no  stand  against  them.  Driven  from 
their  very  houses,  they  had  to  creep  for  refuge 
to  rocky  caves  and  to  burrow  in  the  torrent 
gullies. 


THE  STORY  OF  GIDEON.  191 

What  a  picture  it  is  of  their  distress  !  *'  Israel 
was  greatly  impoverished,"  we  read.  ''And  be- 
cause of  the  Midianites  the  children  of  Israel 
made  them  the  dens  which  are  in  the  mountains, 
and  caves,  and  strongholds.  And  so  it  was  when 
Israel  had  sown,  that  the  Midianites  came  up, 
.  .  .  and  the  children  of  the  East,  .  .  .  and  left 
no  sustenance  for  Israel,  neither  sheep,  nor  ox, 
nor  ass.  For  they  came  up  with  their  cattle 
and  their  tents,  and  they  came  as  grasshoppers 
for  multitude."  Was  ever  a  scene  of  such 
misery ! 

Then  came  the  beginning  of  their  deliverance, 
—  tJie  people  cried  unto  the  Lord.  A  cry  amidst 
the  anguish  that  their  own  folly  and  sin  had 
wrought.  Well,  if  we  wait  until  our  prayers 
are  perfect,  we  shall  wait  till  we  never  need 
them.  Only  perfect  men  can  offer  perfect 
prayers ;  and  perfect  men  have  nothing  to  pray 
for.  The  cry  was  heard  and  answered.  God  sent 
them  a  prophet.  It  seemed  a  poor  reply  to  an 
impoverished  and  oppressed  people.  We  should 
have  asked  first  for  twenty  legions  of  angels  to 
deliver  Israel  from  the  greedy  Midianites.  But 
until  men  are  ready  to  listen  to  God  they  are 
certainly  not  ready  to  obey.  The  cry  to  God 
must  lead  to  a  renewed  faith  in  God,  and  a  re- 
newed surrender  to  Him,  then   and  then  only 


192  THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON. 

can  come  their  deliverance.  The  prophet  must 
precede  the  victory,  or  the  people  are  neither 
ready  to  win  nor  fit  to  avail .  themselves  of  it. 
Once  again,  then,  the  people  have  come  to  God 
and  listened  to  His  voice.  And  now  comes  the 
next  step. 

The  story  takes  us  away  to  the  rocky  hillside, 
where  amidst  the  terraced  vineyards  is  a  wine 
press.  And  there,  hidden  amidst  the  leafy 
trees,  one  is  threshing  out  the  wheat  that  he 
had  saved  from  the  Arab  plunderers.  A  man 
handsome  of  stature  and  of  noble  countenance. 
We  have  a  picture  of  the  man  as  well  as  a  key 
to  his  thoughts  when  sometime  afterward  Gid- 
eon stood  face  to  face  with  the  Arab  chiefs  — 
the  Raven  and  the  Wolf.  "  What  manner  of 
men  were  they  whom  ye  slew  at  Tabor.''"  he 
asked.  And  they  said,  "As  thou  art,  so  were 
they ;  each  one  resembled  the  children  of  a 
king."  And  Gideon  said,  ''They  were  my 
brothers,  even  the  sons  of  my  mother." 

Such  is  the  man  who  bends  threshing  the 
corn :  his  heart  thinking  mournfully  of  the  sor- 
rows that  have  befallen  Israel,  and  he  wishing 
it  were  but  the  enemies  of  his  nation  that  he 
smote  thus  lustily.  Then  he  stops  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  lifts  himself  from  his  work  with  a 
sigh.     There  beside  him,  under  the  shadow  of 


THE   STORY   OF   GIDEON.  1 93 

an  old  oak  tree,  sits  a  stranger  watching  him. 
Reading  his  thoughts,  the  stranger  saith,  **  The 
Lord  be  with  thee,  thou  mighty  man  of  valor." 

The  reply  is  not  bitter  or  desperate,  but 
utterly  sad.  There  are  tears  in  his  voice  as  he 
answers,  "Sir" — the  word  is  one  of  courtesy 
and  respect — "Sir,  O  Sir,  if  the  Lord  be  with 
us,  why  then  is  all  this  befallen  us  1  It  is  my 
thought,  my  wonder,  my  longing  day  and  night. 
Where  are  the  wonders  which  our  fathers  told 
us  of }  But  now,  now,"  and  the  head  is  shaken, 
and  the  strong  man  bent,  "  now  hath  the  Lord 
forsaken  us,  and  delivered  us  into  the  hands  of 
the  Midianites." 

Then  the  messenger  looked  upon  the  man  — 
a  look  that  awed  and  inspired  him ;  that  moved 
his  soul,  and  girt  him  as  with  Divine  authority, 
—  a  look  that  was  the  revelation  of  the  Divine 
purpose  and  the  enduement  with  power  for  its 
fulfilment.  "  Go  in  this  thy  might,  and  than 
sJialt  save  Israel  from  the  hands  of  the  Midian- 
ites.    Have  not  I  sent  tJiee  ?  " 

Starting  at  the  tone  and  words,  Gideon  won- 
dered if  the  stranger  knew  what  he  said  !  Did 
he  know  the  misery  and  poverty  of  Israel  "i  Did 
he  know  the  might  of  these  fierce  Arab  hosts  .'* 
And,  above  all,  did  he  know  this  poor  laborer 
to  whom  he  talked  }     "  I !  "  he  gasped.     "  I  am 


194  THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON. 

the  least  in  my  father's  house  ;  and  my  father's 
house  is  the  least  in  the  tribe  of  Manasseh. 
Wherewith  shall  I  save  Israel !  " 

And  the  word  came  as  from  the  Lord,  ''Surely 
I  will  be  with  thee^  and  thou  shall  smite  the  Midi- 
aniteSy  as  one  ma7i'' 


II.   ENDUED   WITH   THE   SPIRIT. 
"  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  came  upon  Gideon."  — Judges  vi.  34. 

We  come  now  to  the  second  chapter  in  this 
story  of  a  great  revival  and  a  great  deliverance. 

The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  came  upon  Gideoji :  it  is 
much  more  than  "  came,"  the  margin  is,  ''clothed''; 
like  a  coat  of  mail  it  encompassed  him  with 
power.  The  idea  is  that  it  fitted  and  qualified 
him  for  the  work  he  had  to  do.  We  all  have 
lofty  and  sublime  ideas,  sometimes,  like  the  stars. 
But  the  trouble  is  that  we  have  got  no  wings  to 
fly  up  to  them.  We  all  have  a  sense  of  the  life 
we  should  live,  — if  we  could.  If  will  and  power 
could  act  together,  a  single  hour  ! 

Fickle,  feeble,  afraid,  forgetful  often,  and  in- 
different, sometimes  in  very  defiance  and  despair 
flinging  ourselves  away — think  if  we  were  ex- 
actly fitted  and  adapted  to  the  duties  and  claims 
of  the  daily  life,  without,  on  the  one  hand,  an 


THE   STORY   OF   GIDEON.  1 95 

agony  of  effort,  and  on  the  other,  without  the 
anguish  of  a  constant  failure.  That  is  the  very 
idea  of  the  rehgion  of  the  Book.  The  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  went  forth  to  His  work  as  the  Man 
fitted  and  prepared  perfectly  by  the  Spirit  of 
God  for  the  work  He  had  to  do.  The  Spirit 
of  the  Lord  came  upon  Him,  and  that  was  His 
power ;  to  bear,  to  dare,  to  spread,  to  heal. 
He  would  not  avail  Himself  of  any  power  which 
was  not  within  our  reach.  And  is  religion  any 
good  if  it  does  not  mean  this  }  If  there  is  one 
word  that  sums  up  the  glory  of  nature  and  crea- 
tion, I  can  think  of  none  that  does  it  so  com- 
pletely as  the  word  adaptatio7i,  perfect  adaptation, 
fitness  :  in  every  creature,  the  tiniest  as  well  as 
the  greatest,  the  perfect  fitness  to  the  surround- 
ings, eye  and  ear  and  mouth  and  physical 
structure  perfectly  fitted  to  light  and  sound, 
and  food  and  life. 

And  now  is  there  not  somewhere  that  which 
can  fit  us  perfectly  to  the  highest  and  truest  life 
of  God  }  Is  there  to  be  in  all  things  else  the  per- 
fect adaptation,  and  here  only  all  things  awry.  Is 
there  to  be  a  grim  mockery  within  us,  that  grim 
laugh  of  hell  at  all  honest  longings  and  better 
thoughts.-^  Is  there  always  to  be  a  great  black 
gap  between  the  prayers  and  the  life ;  the  Sun- 
day longings  and  the  week-day  ways }     Are  old 


196  THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON. 

sins  never  to  be  broken  and  their  tyranny  never 
to  be  ended  ?  Is  this  sense  of  God  always  to  be 
a  hard  and  unnatural  thing  —  a  mountain  very 
difficult  to  climb ;  and  when  we  get  to  the  top, 
an  air  so  rarefied  that  we  faint  ?  Is  the  life  of 
religion  a  thing  so  exacting  that  only  heroes  and 
men  of  desperate  courage  and  endurance  can 
succeed  ?  How  good  it  is  to  turn  to  such  a 
thought  as  this,  clothed  zvith  power,  fitted  and 
qualified  perfectly  for  the  work  the  man  has  to 
do.  It  is  exactly  the  boast  of  St.  Paul  —  "I  can 
do  all  things  in  Christ  which  strengtheneth  me." 
It  means  literally  that  /  can  prevail,  —  /  can  suc- 
ceed, —  in  all  things  through  Christ,  which  in- 
spires strength  into  me.  A  perfect  adaptation 
of  the  man  to  all  that  the  Lord  wanted  of  him. 
This  is  the  only  idea  of  Christian  life  which  has 
anything  to  satisfy  us.  It  is  more  than  creed, 
more  than  forms,  more  than  prayer ;  these  only 
minister  to  it.  It  is  the  power  of  God  in  a  man, 
fitting  him  to  do  the  will  of  God — just  as  per- 
fectly as  a  bird  is  fitted  to  flight,  or  a  man  is  fitted 
to  think  and  speak.  And  mark  too,  it  is  not  a 
power  that  is  hard  to  get  and  hard  to  keep,  so 
hard  indeed  that  it  is  practically  out  of  our  reach. 
It  is  a  power  that  comes  to  us  in  its  perfect  adap- 
tation as  the  light  comes  to  the  eye,  and  the 
breath  comes  to  the  lungs.     We  have  not  to  go 


THE  STORY  OF  GIDEON.  1 97 

up  to  heaven  to  find  it.  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
came  upon  Gideon  and  arrayed  and  equipped 
him  perfectly  for  what  he  had  to  do. 

And  noiv  zvhat  zuere  the  steps  that  led  up  to 
this  ?  We  must  turn  again  to  the  story.  It  takes 
us  away  to  the  hillside,  where  hidden  in  the 
vineyard  Gideon  threshes  in  the  winepress  the 
scanty  store  of  wheat  that  he  has  saved  from 
the  Arab  robbers.  There  came  to  him  the 
angel  of  the  Lord,  whom  as  yet  Gideon  knows 
only  as  a  courteous  stranger.  It  speaks  a  great 
deal,  a  very  great  deal  for  the  man — that  bad  as 
the  times  are —  though  those  fierce  desert  tribes 
have  left  no  sustenance  for  sheep,  or  ox,  or  ass, 
and  though  the  people  of  Israel  are  driven  to 
live  in  the  caves  of  the  mountains  —  yet  Gideon 
begs  to  be  allowed  to  bring  his  present,  as  he 
calls  it.  He  made  ready  a  kid  of  the  goats,  and 
baked  the  cakes,  and  brought  them  in  a  basket 
with  a  pot  of  broth  and  set  before  the  stranger 
under  an  oak.  God  never  did  anything  in  the 
world  with  a  miser.  The  niggardly  soul  is  not 
big  enough  for  any  of  God's  angels  to  come 
into.  God  loves  the  generous  soul,  the  cheerful 
giver. 

As  long  afterwards  the  Lord  was  made  known 
to  His  disciples  in  the  breaking  of  bread,  so 
here  was  given  some  token  of  the  Divine  pres- 


198  THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON. 

ence,  before  which  Gideon  fell  down  afraid  and 
worshipped  God.  Then  God  spake  to  Gideon  of 
graciousness  and  of  peace.  And  Gideon  built 
an  altar  there  and  called  it  Jehovah  Shalom, 
^^TJie  Lord  send peaceT 

That  is  where  the  revival  and  deliverance  be- 
gan, and  that  is  where  it  always  must  begin,  in 
the  revelation  of  God  to  the  soul,  and  in  the  new 
surrender  to  Him.  There  are  many  things  that 
we  should  have  looked  for  first.  Close  by  the 
altar  of  Jehovah  stood  the  altar  of  Baal  and  the 
grove  beside  it,  the  place  of  their  foul  idolatries. 
We  might  have  expected  first  that  it  might  be 
cleared.  There  is  the  roving  Bedouin  ruining 
the  land ;  we  might  have  looked  that  they 
should  first  be  driven  forth.  But  no,  it  must 
begin  with  God.  In  the  beginning,  God.  That 
ushers  in  the  Creation,  and  that  precedes  every 
new  creation.  Our  fresh  starts  must  first  start 
in  Him. 

To  find  His  presence,  to  hear  His  voice,  that 
is  ever  the  first  thing.  And  the  heart  that  listens 
and  longs  for  Him  shall  surely  hear  Him. 

The7i  comes  the  next  step.  Gideon  must  begin 
by  demolishing  the  altar  of  Baal  in  his  father's 
house.  The  Spirit  of  God  has  come  upon  him, 
not  only  to  send  him  against  Midian  as  the 
deliverer,  but   first   against   the   hindrances   in 


THE  STORY  OF  GIDEON.  1 99 

Israel  that  kept  God  from  amongst  them.  He 
must  throw  down  that  altar,  and  he  must  cut 
down  that  grove.  It  is  a  dangerous  work. 
Cautious  as  he  always  is,  and  as  he  need  be, 
Gideon  takes  ten  men  with  him  by  night,  and  a 
couple  of  his  father's  bullocks,  and  lo,  as  the 
morning  dawned,  there  was  the  altar  of  Baal 
thrown  down,  and  the  grove  dishonored,  and 
an  altar  stood  erected  to  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  on 
which  the  sacrifice  was  burning  and  the  smoke 
went  up  to  heaven. 

Thus  God  taught  Gideon  what  it  was  that 
kept  Him  out  of  their  midst.  It  was  true  as  he 
mournfully  complained,  "■  If  the  Lord  be  with 
us,  why  have  all  these  ills  befallen  us  .-^ "  If 
God  were  with  them,  should  they  not  have  such 
proofs  of  His  presence  as  they  had  of  old  t 
Now  God  had  forsaken  them.  But  the  fault 
was  with  them,  not  wdth  Him.  Gideon  was  at 
once  bitter  and  mournful  that  God  did  nothing. 
But  He  could  do  nothing  until  the  idolatrous 
altar  was  pulled  down.  Heaven's  door  has  no 
bolt  or  bar  on  that  side,  but  we  put  them  up  on 
this.  No  sooner  is  the  altar  of  Baal  gone  than 
Gideon  is  sent  forth  to  deliver  Israel  from 
Midian. 

And  now  let  us  have  the  honesty  of  Gideon. 
Let  us  doubt  our  religion  if  there  be  in  it  noth- 


200  THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON. 

ing  of  the  power  of  God.  Is  it  not  time  to  be 
tired  of  mere  phrases,  traditional  notions,  rounds 
of  words  that  stop  short  of  any  actual  force  that 
makes  for  goodness,  for  truth,  for  purity,  for  love. 
"  If  the  Lord  be  with  us,  why  have  these  things 
befallen  us  .''  "  Where  are  the  tokens  and  proofs 
of  His  presence. 

And  if  God  be  not  with  us  the  fault  is  not  with 
Him.  His  love  is  ever  eager  to  help  us.  He 
longs  to  fill  our  lives  with  His  presence  and 
power.  Somewhere  we  may  be  quite  sure  there 
stands  that  which  blocks  the  way,  something 
that  shuts  the  door  against  Him  and  bolts  it. 

It  may  be  and  very  often  is,  neglect  of  prayer^ 
that  which  is  the  very  opening  of  the  door  for 
His  incoming.  If  we  never  listen  to  His  voice, 
if  there  is  never  any  earnest  waiting  upon  Him, 
then  His  very  presence  is  but  an  absence  so  far 
as  we  are  concerned.  It  may  be  that  in  business 
there  is  some  questionable  or  unquestionable 
procedure,  something  perhaps  that  others  call 
clever  but  that  grieves  God,  as  all  that  is  selfish 
and  unbrotherly  must  ever  grieve  Him.  That 
is  the  altar  of  Baal.     It  must  come  down. 

With  another,  it  is  some  indnlgence,  or  it  may 
be  some  sin,  the  altar  of  Baal,  set  up  side  by 
side  with  the  altar  of  Jehovah. 

And  yet,  again,  how  often  is  it  that  the  pres- 


THE  STORY  OF  GIDEON.  201 

ence  and  power  of  God  are  driven  out  of  the 
soul  by  some  quarrel  that  has  left  its  bitterness 
within.  Love  is  the  only  atmosphere  in  which 
God  can  reveal  Himself.  Love  alone  has  eyes 
to  see  God,  and  ears  to  hear  Him.  He  that 
loveth  not  knoweth  not  God,  for  God  is  love.  If 
the  presence  of  God  is  not  known  to  us,  if  God's 
power  is  not  proved  in  our  lives,  if  God's  favor 
is  not  resting  upon  our  work,  let  us  be  sure  that 
somewhere  there  is  a  hindrance.  And  if  we 
seek  God  simply  and  earnestly.  He  shall  meet 
us  and  reveal  Himself  to  us,  and  that  vision  of 
His  presence  shall  be  the  strength  to  throw  down 
the  altar  of  Baal. 


III.   PITCHERS  AND  TRUMPETS. 

"  He  put  a  trumpet  in  every  man's  hand,  with  empty  pitchers, 
and  lamps  within  the  pitchers."  — Judges  vii.  i6. 

We  reach  the  third  chapter  in  this  story  of  a 
great  deliverance.  It  is  needful  for  us  to  recall 
that  which  we  have  already  dwelt  upon,  and 
which  leads  up  to  our  subject. 

The  robber  hordes  from  the  desert,  wandering 
Arabs,  had  come  up  against  the  people  of  north- 
ern Palestine,  like  locusts  for  numbers,  and  like 
locusts  for  the  desolation  they  left  behind  them. 


202  THE   STORY  OF  GIDEON. 

There  was  no  sustenance  for  sheep  or  ox  or  ass. 
The  frightened  people  hid  in  the  caves  of  the 
mountains.  Famine  and  misery  were  every- 
where. Then  it  is  that  there  comes  before  us 
this  man,  Gideon,  a  lowly  laborer,  thrashing  out 
the  scanty  measure  of  wheat  that  he  had  saved 
from  the  robber  hosts  in  the  secrecy  of  the  wine- 
press. He  carries  in  his  heart  the  sorrows  and 
sins  of  his  people,  it  sweeps  within  his  soul  as 
a  very  flood  of  sorrows.  That  is  the  man  for 
whom  God  is  always  looking,  not  the  man  who 
is  eager  about  his  own  salvation,  but  who  is  will- 
ing rather  to  perish  if  only  thus  he  can  uplift 
and  deliver  his  people.  That  deep  love  is  the 
first  note  of  God's  hero :  the  man  who  sighs  and 
cries  over  the  miseries  and  wrongs  and  griefs 
of  the  people,  and  makes  them  his  own.  Jesus 
Christ  is  the  Saviour  of  the  world  because  He 
took  upon  Himself  our  sins  and  griefs  in  an 
infinite  pity  and  oneness  with  the  whole  race  of 
man.  And  this  it  is  which  is  the  only  Chris- 
tianity, and  the  only  Christlikeness  —  a  deep 
yearning  pity  and  longing  for  the  truest  welfare 
of  the  people.  Every  great  revival,  every  great 
reformation,  every  great  deliverance  has  begun 
there  and  viust. 

Now  we  reach  the  next  step.     He  had  to  tear 
down  the  altar  of  Baal  that  stood  at  his  door. 


THE  STORY  OF  GIDEON.  203 

The  hindrances  to  that  which  God  longs  to  do 
for  men,  are  not  in  Him  but  in  us.  The  things 
that  shut  God  out  are  our  own  folHes  and  sins. 
As  soon  as  that  altar  of  Baal  is  gone  the  Spirit 
of  the  Lord  comes  upon  Gideon.  That  is,  there 
came  upon  him  a  divine  fitness  for  the  work  he 
had  to  do.  That  is  ever  the  next  step.  Chris- 
tianity is  not  only  a  Christlike  compassion  or 
infinite  pity.  It  is  a  divine  fitness  for  the  life  to 
which  God  calls  us,  a  fitness  in  the  man  to  fulfil 
God's  plan  and  God's  purpose.  And  let  nobody 
wonder  at  this.  "  Thou  preparest  them  corn 
when  Thou  hast  so  provided  for  it,"  sings  the 
Psalmist.  If  God  can  fit  the  very  clods  of  the 
ground  by  heavenly  influences  of  sun  and 
shower  and  changeful  seasons  to  receive  the 
seed  and  give  it  back  to  us  in  the  golden  har- 
vest, can  He  not,  shall  He  not  give  to  us  men 
and  women  if  we  will  let  Him  the  grace  that 
can  fulfil  in  us  the  truest  and  highest  and  best } 
This  is  the  meaning  of  His  religion.  Do  not 
degrade  its  mighty  meaning  to  anything  less 
than  that.  It  is  a  miserable  thing  to  think  of  it 
only  as  a  means  of  getting  to  heaven  by  and  by. 
It  is  a  great,  deep,  living  deliverance  from  the 
hell  of  selfishness,  a  restless  and  resistless  longing 
to  make  something  of  a  heaven  for  other  people. 
And   now   here   we   recommence   our   story. 


204  ^^^   STOEY   OF   GIDEON. 

The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  came  upon  Gideon. 
Look  at  him  as  he  stands  in  the  consciousness 
of  his  might.  A  little  while  ago  he  bent  in  his 
grief,  sighing,  *'  My  family  is  poor  in  Manasseh, 
and  I  am  the  least  in  my  father's  house,"  but 
now  he  stands  the  man  of  noble  countenance  and 
kingly  stature,  a  very  leader  of  men,  he  blew  a 
trumpet,  a  blast  of  defiance  to  the  hosts  of  Midian, 
and  a  summoning  to  Israel.  And  he  sends 
messengers  throughout  the  tribes,  and  speedily 
thirty-two  thousand  are  gathered  about  the  stand- 
ard of  Gideon.  Did  the  man  stay  to  wonder  at 
it  all .?  Nay,  here  was  the  explanation  :  *'  The 
Spirit  of  the  Lord  came  upon  Gideon." 

No  man  knows  what  he  is  good  for  until  he 
is  given  up  to  God.  Did  you  ever  think  out  of 
what  a  depth  of  feeling,  what  a  force  of  experi- 
ence come  those  words  of  St.  Paul,  "  I  beseech 
you  by  the  mercies  of  God,  that  ye  present  your 
bodies  a  living  sacrifice  unto  God  .  .  .  that 
ye  may  prove  what  is  His  good,  and  perfect 
and  acceptable  will "  .?  He  sees  himself,  Saul 
the  persecutor,  breathing  out  threatenings  and 
slaughter,  his  hand  stained  with  the  blood  of  the 
martyr  Stephen,  then  he  falls  down  before  the 
Lord  surrendered  to  Him  and  asks,  "  What  wilt 
Thou  have  me  to  do .'' "  And  so  he  is  trans- 
formed into  the  apostle  Paul,  gentle,  yearning, 


THE  STORY  OF  GIDEON.  20 5 

with  a  Christlikc  compassion  over  men.  We 
never  know  what  God  can  get  out  of  us  until  we 
are  given  up  to  Him.  There  is  Luther,  fright- 
ened into  a  monastery  by  a  flash  of  lightning, 
and  given  up  to  God  he  becomes  the  fearless 
hero  defying  pope  and  devil.  There  is  John 
Wesley,  a  rigid  churchman,  who  goes  forth  to 
claim  the  whole  world  as  his  parish.  It  runs 
through  everything.  Your  Father  is  the  Hus- 
bandman, said  the  Lord  Jesus.  What  is  the 
seed,  the  little  hard  seed,  dead,  worthless,  until 
it  lets  the  husbandman  have  it,  and  he  trans- 
forms it  into  the  flower  "i  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
came  upon  Gideon,  and  the  sighing  believer 
rises  up  the  deliverer  of  Israel. 

But  we  must  turn  to  look  at  these  whom  Gid- 
eon has  gathered  about  him.  Here  are  thirty- 
two  thousand  men  who  have  heard  the  trumpet, 
and  have  joined  the  ranks  to  fight  for  their  altar 
and  hearth,  for  wives  and  little  ones.  And  now 
Gideon  leads  them  forth  in  sight  of  the  hosts  of 
Midian.  There  stretched  the  tents  far  away, 
away,  and  everywhere  the  mighty  host  around. 
A  shudder  of  fear,  in  face  of  such  a  multitude, 
went  through  the  little  company.  Then  rang 
out  the  usual  proclamation  :  What  man  is  there 
that  is  faint-Jiearted  and  fearful  f     Let  him  go, 


206  THE   STORY  OF  GIDEON. 

and  return  tmto  his  honse.  At  once  timid  men 
glanced  at  each  other.  Then  one  stepped  out, 
then  another,  now  by  twos  and  threes  they 
stepped  back,  then  by  twenty,  thirty,  forty, 
fifty,  now  by  hundreds,  the  Httle  army  melted 
away  until  it  seemed  that  there  would  be  none 
left.     Twenty-two  thousand  men  went  back. 

What  shall  we  say }  "  These  are  they  which 
were  sown  on  stony  ground,  such  as  hear  the 
word  and  immediately  they  receive  it  with  glad- 
ness, and  have  no  root  in  themselves."  No 
root !  Nothing  to  take  hold  of,  nothing  to  take 
hold  with,  and  endure  but  for  a  time.  Who  of 
us  does  not  know  them  }  It  was  delightful  to 
hear  the  trumpet  blown,  delightful  to  hear  that 
God  had  raised  up  this  man  Gideon,  delightful 
to  think  of  being  delivered  from  these  murder- 
ous thieves,  until  —  until  they  got  in  sight  of 
them.  Then,  well  then,  they  thought  tJiere  was 
no  place  like  ho7ne.  Ah  !  it  is  pleasant  to  sit  and 
dream  of  the  life  we  might  live.  We  seem  to 
catch  something  of  its  heroism  and  splendor  by 
thinking  about  it.  And  to-morrow,  what  t  We 
go  back  again  contentedly  to  the  old  ways  and 
the  old  life.  We  have  heard  the  trumpet  and 
swelled  the  numbers,  and  then,  returned.  We 
like  reviews  and  parades,  the  only  thing  we 
don't  like  is  fighting.     Well,  let  us  own  it  with 


THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON.  20/ 

shame  and  humiliation ;  we  are  not  brave,  alas, 
we  are  cowards ;  most  of  all  and  worst  of  all  we 
are  cowards  nowhere  else  but  in  the  matter  of 
our  religion,  faithful  to  all  but  God,  ashamed  of 
none  but  our  glorious  Captain  and  Saviour. 
How  cruel  and  hideous  a  thing  is  this !  But 
abusing  ourselves  will  not  make  us  any  braver. 
To  be  humiliated  and  ashamed  is  not  a  cure  for 
cowardice.  Is  there  any  cure .''  Well,  come  and 
see. 

Here  is  another  company  that  has  failed  in 
the  hour  of  trial,  and  failed  at  the  time  when 
courage  most  of  all  was  needed,  and  had  its 
sublimest  opportunity.  To  them  the  Lord  Him- 
self had  turned,  just  as  He  was  going  out  into 
the  loneliness  and  terrors  of  the  crucifixion,  **  To- 
night," said  He,  "ye  shall  all  be  scandalized 
because  of  Me."  Of  them  in  that  hour  we  read, 
"they  all  forsook  Him  and  fled."  Simon  Peter, 
foremost  in  asserting  his  devotion,  thrice  denies 
his  Lord  with  oaths  and  curses.  Yet  of  these 
it  is  spoken,  "  Ye  shall  receive  power  after  that 
the  Holy  Ghost  is  come  upon  you,  and  ye  shall 
be  witnesses  unto  Me  in  Jerusalem" ;  here  where 
the  enemies  are  so  many  and  so  mighty.  But 
mark  well  that  it  is — Power  aftcrthe  Holy  Ghost 
has  come  tcpofi  them.  God  does  not  choose  men 
because  they  are  heroes,  but  that  He  may  make 


208  THE   STORY  OF  GIDEON. 

heroes  of  them.  Not  what  we  are,  but  what 
He  can  do  with  us,  that  it  is  of  which  we  should 
think.  The  Spirit  of  power  is  the  Spirit  of 
courage.  The  Spirit  that  came  upon  Gideon  is 
ours  for  the  asking.  In  spite  of  all  the  past,  in 
spite  of  all  the  weakness  and  shame,  take  it 
and  make  it  your  prayer  —  *'  O  God,  give 
me  Thy  Holy  Spirit,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake. 
Amen." 

But  yet  another  test  is  needed.  Gideon  must 
have  picked  men  for  this  service.  Forward  they 
march,  the  brave  little  band  of  ten  thousand.  If 
before  they  were  heroes  together,  such  a  handful 
against  such  a  host,  thrice  heroes  are  they  now 
to  march  forward  where  so  many  have  fallen. 
All  honor  to  these  men  whatever  else  they  do. 
Remember  the  foe  is  in  sight  of  them,  stretched 
right  across  the  valley,  probably  shouting  their 
ribald  defiance.  The  defence  of  Israel  is  a 
spring  that  rising  up  out  of  the  limestone  rock 
here  forms  a  pool  some  twenty  feet  broad  and 
flows  in  a  stream  down  the  valley.  Soft  banks 
and  the  deep  river  bed  lay  between  the  men  of 
Israel  and  the  hosts  of  Midian.  The  bushes 
and  reeds  that  grew  on  the  banks  were  just  the 
place  where  the  cunning  Arab  might  lurk,  and 
whence  he  could  hurl  his  spear.  What  folly 
then  was  it,  what  sheer  forgetf ulness,  for  the  host 


THE   STORY  OF  GIDEON.  209 

of  these  soldiers  to  search  for  a  firm  place  where 
they  could  lie  down  with  belt  slackened  and 
sword  laid  aside,  and  eyes  turned  altogether 
away  from  the  enemy  that  they  might  drink 
deep.  Now  and  then  a  soldier,  wiser  and  more 
wary,  stooped  for  a  moment  and  scooped  the 
water  in  his  hand,  and  moistened  his  mouth 
with  the  drops,  the  eye  never  off  the  foe,  the 
hand  never  loosed  from  the  sword.  And  Gideon 
marked  these  men  and  called  them  to  him,  and 
bade  the  others  go  back. 

It  was  an  admirable  test.  What  he  wanted 
for  a  night  attack  and  surprise  upon  this  host 
was  not  strength  or  skill,  but  men  who  could  be 
trusted.  Half  a  dozen  careless  men  who  bungled 
would  spoil  the  whole  thing.  Men  who  knew 
what  to  do  and  exactly  when  to  do  it.  This  is 
what  he  wanted,  and  then  could  follow  it  up 
instantly  to  the  best  advantage. 

Here,  again,  is  the  picture  of  the  very  life  of 
the  men  whom  God  can  use.  Do  not  write 
those  others  down  as  cowards.  Not  at  all. 
Their  very  carelessness  may  have  indicated 
their  courage.  Do  not  think  of  them  as  mere 
self-indulgent  good-for-nothings.  Not  at  all. 
When  the  first  blow  is  struck  they  shall  come 
in  to  make  the  conquest  more  complete,  and  to 
chase  the  foe.     But  these  of  the  chosen  band 


2IO  THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON. 

are  the  men  who  must  go  first,  men  who  put 
first  and  foremost  the  service  of  God,  never 
slothful  in  business.  Please  do  not  think  that 
I  mean  for  one  moment  that  a  man  is  to  be  so 
heavenly  minded  as  to  mind  nothing  else;  that 
is  to  be  a  Pharisee  and  hypocrite.  The  man 
whom  God  wants  is  the  man  who  is  never 
off  his  guard ;  never  so  .  absorbed  in  business 
or  pleasure  as  to  lose  sight  of  God's  service, 
or  needlessly  to  expose  himself  to  temptation. 
Of  Noah  it  is  written  that  being  wary  he 
builded  an  ark.  The  man  who  is  wary  is  he 
who  can  sip  where  others  gulp,  and  can  stoop 
and  scoop  where  others  lie  all-forgetful  of  the 
foe :  it  may  be  that  thinking  of  this  scene  St. 
Peter  writes,  "■  Be  sober,"  don't  be  thirsty.  Be 
vigilant ;  keep  your  eye  on  the  enemy. 

The  Arabs  watching  the  company  must  have 
sent  up  a  great  laugh  of  derision,  as  they  saw 
the  army  again  fall  off  until  only  the  three 
hundred  were  left.  With  an  easy  confidence 
they  would  anticipate  the  morrow  when  Israel 
should  smart  for  having  the  impudence  thus  to 
protect  themselves. 

Now  the  day  dies  in  the  darkness.  Gideon 
takes  with  him  his  brave  attendant  Phurah,  and 
cautiously  they  creep  near  to  the  tents  of  the 
enemy.     Here   about    the   watchfire    gather   a 


THE   STORY  OF  GIDEON.  211 

group  of  swarthy  warriors.  And  one  uneasy 
soldier  lifts  himself  and  turns  to  a  companion 
at  his  side.  "  Can  you  interpret  dreams  ? " 
Gideon  creeps  nearer  and  listens.  '*  What  is 
it  ? "  asks  the  comrade.  ''  It  was  a  strange 
dream.  I  saw  a  little  cake  of  barley  bread." 
^'Barley  bread,''  laughed  the  soldier.  "Ah, 
that  is  Israel  surely."  For  a  cake  of  barley 
bread  was  a  sign  of  poverty ;  a  thing  of  con- 
tempt baked  beneath  the  ashes,  burned  and 
black. 

''Then  if  that  is  Israel,"  asked  the  soldier 
eagerly,  "  what  does  this  mean .''  For  the  bar- 
ley cake  came  rolling  down  the  hills,  like  a 
thing  blown  by  the  wind,  and  it  came  leaping 
until  it  rolled  against  the  king's  tent.  And  the 
barley  cake  smote  it  so  that  it  lay  along  the 
ground.     What  does  that  mean  }  " 

"  Mean !  "  cried  the  other,  "what  can  it  mean 
but  the  sword  of  Gideon,  a  man  of  Israel  .'*  for 
into  his  hand  hath  God  delivered  Midian  and 
all  the  host." 

And  as  Gideon  heard  it  he  worshipped  God, 
the  head  bent  low  before  Him  Who  had  thus 
strengthened  His  servant.  Noiselessly  as  he 
had  come  he  crept  back  to  the  little  company, 
with  a  tone  in  his  voice  and  a  courage  in  his 
manner  that  inspired  them  all,  "Arise,"  he  whis- 


212  THE  STORY  OF  GIDEON. 

pered,  "for  the  Lord  hath  deHvered  Midian  into 
our  hands." 

The  bold  device  had  doubtless  been  already 
arranged.  To  each  of  the  three  hundred  men 
was  given  a  ram's  horn  to  be  carried  in  the 
right  hand,  and  in  the  left  each  carried  a  rough 
earthenware  pitcher,  in  which  was  hidden  a 
lighted  torch.  Setting  the  men  about  the  camp 
of  Midian  in  three  groups,  he  bade  them  wait 
until  he  sounded  the  signal  of  attack :  then  in- 
stantly they  should  ring  out  one  wild  note  on 
the  ram's  horns,  and  with  a  crash  of  the  pitch- 
ers should  wave  the  torches  into  a  flame,  and 
rush  on  the  bewildered  foe. 

Now  the  moment  comes.  Silence  rests  on  the 
hosts.  Then  suddenly  rings  the  sound  of  Gid- 
eon's trumpet,  never  was  bolder  note  more  boldly 
blown.  Quick  as  thought  came  the  answer,  as  if 
a  myriad  throats  sent  forth  defiance  to  the  tents 
of  Midian.  Then  as  if  the  heavens  blazed,  the 
glare  of  the  torches  flashed  on  every  side.  And 
there  rang  a  shout,  triumphant,  terrible,  "The 
sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon,"  and  Midian 
fled,  every  man  in  his  panic  smiting  right  and  left, 
and  trampling  under  or  trampled  upon.  Swiftly 
down  from  the  hills  rushed  the  soldiers  of  Israel, 
and  made  the  rout  complete.  It  is  written, 
^^  All  the  host  ran  ajid shouted  and Jled'' 


THE  STORY  OF  GIDEON.  213 

IV.    FAINT,  YET  PURSUING. 
"  Faint,  yet  pursuing."  — Judges  viii.  4. 

Gideon  has  won  his  great  victory  over  the 
robber  hordes  of  the  desert.  Making  the  night 
hideous  with  their  wild  cries  the  terrified  Arabs 
had  fled  down  between  the  hills,  leaving  their 
tents  and  their  camels  and  all  the  wealth  they 
were  accustomed  to  carry  with  them.  Their 
chance  of  escape  lay  across  the  river  Jordan, 
and  in  the  darkness  they  rushed  thither. 

But  Gideon,  a  born  general,  had  sent  swift 
messengers  to  Ephraim  to  guard  the  fords,  and 
as  the  day  broke  they  found  the  men  of  Ephraim 
posted  and  ready  to  keep  the  narrow  passage, 
and  here  a  second  victory  was  won,  and  here 
fell  two  of  the  chieftains  '' Oreb  and  Zeeb  "  — 
the  Raven  and  the  Wolf,  as  their  names  mean. 
But  the  kings  of  these  hosts,  Zebah  and  Zal- 
munna,  have  made  good  their  escape.  Gideon 
and  his  brave  three  hundred  must  complete  the 
conquest  by  their  capture.  Jordan  was  the 
natural  barrier  of  Palestine,  but  a  portion  of 
Gideon's  tribe  dwelt  on  the  other  side,  and  for 
them  there  should  be  no  safety  so  long  as  Zebah 
and  Zalmunna  lived.     They  were  always  most 


214  ^-^^   STORY  OF  GIDEON. 

exposed  and  the  first  to  suffer.  So  on  the  three 
hundred  go,  restless  though  so  weary,  eager 
although  faint.  They  reach  Succoth,  but  still 
push  on  to  Penuel  with  its  watch  tower,  a  vain 
thing  as  it  proved  for  safety.  On  into  the  land 
of  the  enemy  until  they  come  to  the  place  where 
the  kings  are  taken. 

Gideon,  a  man  of  like  passions  with  ourselves, 
remembers  how  that  these  two  had  slain  his 
three  brothers,  "the  sons  of  my  mother,"  as  he 
said,  "each  one  like  the  child  of  a  king."  And 
in  their  death  the  victory  is  complete.  Fierce 
and  bloody  work  as  all  war  must  be,  alas,  yet 
if  it  has  to  be  done  it  were  well  to  be  done 
bravely  and  resolutely,  and  once  for  all. 

Now  before  we  turn  half  indignant  from 
these  stories,  wondering  that  they  can  find  a 
place  in  this  Book  of  God,  let  us  put  ourselves 
in  the  position  of  Israel.  I  am  a  hater  of  war, 
but  —  but,  what  if  you  and  I  could  not  so  much 
as  sow  our  corn  in  peace  for  robber  bands  that 
came  in  their  thousands  to  destroy  it.^  What  if 
we  could  not  live  in  our  own  homes  and  dared 
not  call  our  lives  our  own .?  What  if  there 
were  scarce  a  family  but  mourned  a  father  or 
brother  slain  by  these  wretched  hosts .''  I  do 
not  think  the  age  would  be  so  sickly  and  senti- 
mental as  to  deny  the  name  of  hero  to  the  man 


THE  STORY  OF  GIDEON.  21 5 

who  became  the  deliverer  of  his  people,  or  with- 
hold its  admiration,  almost  its  adoration,  for  the 
conqueror  of  these  robber  hordes. 

This  victory  of  Gideon  was  the  greatest  suc- 
cess perhaps  ever  won  by  Israel,  one  of  the 
most  splendid  victories  of  the  world.  Three 
hundred  men  against  one  hundred  and  thirty 
thousand  trained  and  skilful  warriors.  The 
memory  of  it  lived  vividly  long  ages  after 
amongst  the  people.  The  spring  and  the  rock 
and  the  winepress  kept  the  names  of  those  that 
made  them  famous  to  this  day.  The  Psalmist 
long  afterwards  recalls  the  fall  of  Oreb  and 
Zeeb,  of  Zebah  and  Zalmunna,  and  his  refer- 
ence suggests  that  their  attacks  upon  Israel 
were  inspired  by  the  fierceness  of  a  religious 
hatred.  They  said,  ''  Come  let  us  take  posses- 
sion of  the  pastures  of  God."  And  when 
Isaiah  in  his  stately  imagery  sees  the  rod  of 
Israel's  oppression  broken,  it  is  with  a  deliver- 
ance glorious  and  complete  "  as  in  the  day  of 
Midian." 

It  was  when  Gideon  came  to  Jordan  after  that 
night's  work,  that  we  read  those  words  of  him, 
and  his  brave  men,  ^^ Faint,  yet piirstcing.'' 

" Fat'nt,  yet piirstnng''  The  words  have  come 
to  be  a  kind  of  saying  to  describe  the  religious 
life.     Well,  let  us  remember  their  origin.     No- 


2l6  THE   STORY  OF  GIDEON. 

body  is  allowed  to  use  the  royal  arms  without 
permission,  and  nobody  but  privileged  persons 
ought  to  be  allowed  to  use  these  words.  Spoken 
at  first  of  such  heroes,  it  is  a  shame  for  laggards 
and  cowards  to  take  them. 

The  virtue  of  the  words  lies  not  in  the  war- 
riors being  "faint,"  but  that  though  faint  they 
still  went  on  pursuing. 

It  is  a  great  deal  better  to  be  strong  than  to 
be  faint,  every  way  better.  It  is  good  to  see 
the  strong  man  in  his  freshness  ready  for  the 
race,  bent,  eager,  waiting,  watchful,  ready  to 
spring  like  an  arrow  from  the  bow.  But  there 
is  one  thing  that  we  praise  more  than  that.  It 
is  when,  away  at  the  end  of  the  course,  we  see 
the  man,  faint,  gasping,  dazed,  with  head  bent 
and  breath  spent,  pushing  on.  That  is  the 
picture.  The  will  is  fixed,  the  purpose  steady. 
There  is  the  pluck,  as  we  Englishmen  love  to 
call  it,  the  dogged  tenacity  that  holds  on;  of 
all  qualities  that  which  is  dearest  to  us,  as  it 
is  the  secret  of  our  position  in  the  world. 

We  turn  the  whole  thing  upside  down,  when 
we  talk  as  if  the  virtue  lay  in  the  fainting,  not 
in  the  pursuing.  There  is,  or  at  any  rate  there 
used  to  be,  a  melancholy  sentimentalism  of  this 
sort,  both  in  the  church  and  the  world.  It  was 
genteely  the  word  is  dying  if   not  dead,  to  be 


THE  STORY  OF  GIDEON.  21/ 

pale,  delicate,  languid,  given  to  fainting.  It 
was  rude  to  have  thoroughly  good  health. 

And  in  religion  it  was  a  sign  of  grace  to  be 
*'a  poor,  weak  creature,"  or  to  say  you  were. 
I  have  met  with  some  people  whose  greatest 
comfort  in  life  was  to  treasure  their  ailments 
and  to  describe  them,  either  bodily  or  reli- 
gious, [sometimes  both.  There  is  such  a  thing 
as  enjoying  very  bad  health.  Such  people  love 
to  find  a  text  like  this,  and  assure  you  that  they 
are  faint  —  faint,  and  they  linger  over  it  as  a 
sweet  morsel.  '' Faint  J'  that  is  the  word  that 
has  all  the  emphasis,  '' bnt  pursuing''  just 
comes  in  to  round  off  the  sentence. 

Now  in  the  name  of  all  that  has  to  do  with 
God  or  man,  let  us  get  rid  of  that.  There  is 
no  virtue  in  faintness.  There  are  a  score  of 
commandments  telling  us  not  to  faint. 

"  Faint,  yet  pursuing,"  may  mean  only  our 
own  condemnation.  Faint,  indeed !  it  were  a 
wonder  if  one  were  not,  when  the  word  is  never 
read,  when  prayer  is  neglected,  when  there  is 
never  any  regular  settled  meal,  mere  snatches 
now  and  then  at  the  crumbs  that  fall  from  the 
Master's  table. 

This  faintness  is  a  privilege  that  can  only  be  al- 
lowed to  those  who  earn  it,  those  who  have  a  good 
reason  for  being  faint,  and  going  on  in  spite  of  it. 


2l8  THE  STORY  OF  GIDEON. 

Having  thus  cleared  my  way,  now  then  let 
me  speak  as  tenderly  and  graciously  as  I  can 
to  those  who  are  tired,  for  that  is  what  it 
means,  a  word  in  season  for  the  tired  people, 
tired  without  any  thought  of  giving  in,  ''  faint, 
yet  pursuing." 

I  said  just  now  that  there  is  no  virtue  in 
faintness,  no  virtue  in  being  tired.  Well,  I 
am  not  so  sure  after  all.  This  was  a  grand 
faintness  of  Gideon's,  and  the  men  with  him. 
To  have  kept  at  it  as  long  as  they  did  from 
the  middle  watch  of  the  night,  and  all  through 
that  morning,  pursuing  the  enemy  right  away 
for  miles,  and  then  to  push  on  again.  Yes, 
there  was  a  kind  of  glory  in  this  faintness.  It 
was  a  noble  weariness.  It  is  better,  ten  thou- 
sand times  better,  to  be  faint  in  doing  good  than 
to  be  fresh  doing  nothing. 

But  virtue  in  it  or  no,  this  is  what  we  have  to 
remember,  that  it  is  qtiite  natural  to  be  faint — 
to  be  weary  and  tired.  You  cannot  keep  on  at 
anything  without  getting  tired.  Only  God  is  He 
Who  fainteth  not,  neither  is  He  weary.  So 
then,  tired  soul,  do  not  cry  out  against  yourself. 
See  how  graciously  God  deals  with  His  tired 
children.  If  the  day  dawns  in  its  freshness  for 
the  strong  man  who  goes  forth  to  labor,  remem- 
ber how  God's  own  gracious  Hand  draws  the 


THE   STORY  OF  GIDEON.  219 

curtain  of  night  about  us,  and  He  tenderly  bids 
His  tired  child  He  down  and  go  to  sleep.  He 
knows  how  the  tired  need  to  be  spoken  to. 
Listen  to  the  exquisite  words  of  Isaiah,  '*  The 
Lord  God  hath  given  me  the  tongue  of  the 
learned."  What  for  }  To  argue  with  the  wise, 
to  convince  the  philosophers,  to  utter  words  of 
eloquence  .''  No  !  "  That  I  should  know  how 
to  speak  a  word  in  season  to  him  that  is  weary." 
I  have  seen  the  mother  when  after  some  day  of 
excitement,  the  little  one  has  been  peevish,  fret- 
ful, ready  to  rebel  —  "  Poor  little  one,"  says  the 
mother,  ''you  are  tired."  And  the  tender  tones 
have  soothed,  and  soon  the  child  has  nestled 
asleep  in  the  cosy  comfort  of  the  mother's 
bosom.  God  knows  how  to  speak  to  His  tired 
children.  Look  at  Elijah,  the  fierce  prophet  of 
fire  lying  under  the  juniper  tree,  peevish  and 
fretful.  And  God  sent  an  angel  to  bake  him  a 
cake,  and  bring  him  a  cruse  of  water,  and  speak 
tenderly  to  him.  "  Why,  you  are  quite  spent, 
you  know,  really  worn  out.  The  way  has  been 
too  far.  You  are  overdone.  Eat  this."  And 
then  like  a  tender  nurse,  which  is  another  name 
for  angel,  she  —  I  am  quite  sure  of  the  sex  — 
said,  ''Now  lie  down  and  go  to  sleep  again." 
And  then,  when  it  was  time,  that  heavenly  nurse 
woke  him  up  once  more,  "  Now,  you  must  take 


220  THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON. 

this,  you  know."  And  the  stern  Elijah  was  as 
obedient  as  a  little  child,  as  we  men  always  are 
to  these  most  amiable  and  blessed  despots ;  and 
he  went  to  sleep  again. 

So  then,  tired  and  faint  one,  do  not  think  it 
a  wicked  sign  of  weakness  that  you  are  tired. 
Do  not  hurl  at  yourself  hard  words  that  your 
senses  are  dull,  your  heart  heavy,  your  energies 
flagging,  that  your  thoughts  wander.  Do  not 
be  angry  at  yourself  that  you  sleep  under  the  ser- 
mon, blame  the  preacher  for  that,  in  my  case  at 
any  rate.     It  is  just  natural  to  be  faint  and  tired. 

Nothing  in  the  life  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
brings  Him  so  near  to  me  in  the  reality  of  His 
human  nature  as  when  He  was  utterly  spent 
and  tired,  asleep  on  the  deck  of  the  ship.  And 
the  tenderest  words  that  ever  fell  upon  this  earth 
are  those  with  which  He  calls  the  weary  ones 
to  Himself,  "  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  that  labor 
and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  yon  rest.'' 

And  now  we  may  venture  to  think  of  some  of 
the  reasons  of  this  weariness. 

Because  of  the  way.  It  is  sometimes  such  a 
long,  long  way,  the  monotony  of  life,  its  com- 
monness, our  ideals  are  so  lofty,  our  dreams 
and  visions  so  splendid,  and  we  seem  always  so 
far  away  from  them.  Life  is  going  on  for  ever 
and  ever  and  yet  getting  no  further,  pursuing, 


THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON.  221 

yet  never  overtaking,  that  is  the  great  source  of 
faintness. 

Do  let  us  remember  that  we  cannot  measure 
ourselves  by  ourselves.  We  were  children,  once 
little  babies,  very  helpless  and  ignorant.  It  is 
a  long  way  back  perhaps,  yet  we  came  on  from 
that  to  where  we  are  now  without  any  sudden 
jerks.  We  ate  and  drank  and  slept  and  kept 
on  eating  and  drinking  three  or  four  times  a 
day,  and  sleeping  every  night,  and  we  came  to 
be  the  man  or  woman.  I  think  I  remember  when 
I  mastered  "twice  two  "  and  almost  fainted  with 
horror  at  "twelve  times."  But  we  have  come 
on,  pushing  forward  a  little  bit  day  after  day. 
Now,  let  us  be  quite  sure  that  if  we  do  every 
day  just  set  ourselves  simply  to  serve  God,  to 
live  as  His  children  and  servants,  doing  the 
right  thing,  crushing  down  the  evil  and  clinging 
to  the  good,  that  it  assuredly  means  growth,  a 
development,  a  getting  further  on  and  higher 
up,  step  by  step,  nearer  to  the  divine  ideal. 
There  are  no  milestones  on  the  way  to  heaven 
by  which  you  can  tell  how  far  you  have  come, 
or  how  far  you  must  go.  But  being  in  the  right 
road,  you  do  know  where  it  goes  to.  Pluck  up 
a  brave  spirit:  ^^  Tired  I  may  be,  but  I  will  jnst 
keep  right  on!' 

TJien  the  fierceness  of  the  fight  had  worn  them 


222  THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON. 

oiLt.  For  hours  every  moment  had  been  a  strain 
and  excitement,  always  on  the  alert,  something 
to  be  guarded  against,  some  advantage  to  be 
turned  to  account,  pushing  on  without  a  mo- 
ment's rest,  fierce  and  desperate.  Well,  you 
pity  them.  The  rest  of  the  laboring  man  is 
sweet,  but  sweeter  still  is  the  weariness  of  the 
conquering  soldier.  It  is  the  measure  of  his 
victory.  Blessed,  wrote  somebody,  be  drudgery ; 
blessed,  we  may  say,  blessed  is  weariness. 
Away  behind  the  hills  were  thousands  who  had 
enjoyed  a  good  night's  rest,  and  risen  perhaps 
to  find  a  comfortable  breakfast  picked  up  in 
the  camp  of  the  Midianites.  Which  would  you 
rather  be,  one  of  the  three  hundred,  ''  faint,  yet 
pursuing,"  or  one  of  these  faint-hearted  ones 
who  had  never  pursued  at  all !  Do  you  sigh 
that  your  life  is  a  thing  of  such  strife  and  strain, 
of  conflict,  of  desperate  and  incessant  effort,  of 
unwearied  watchfulness }  But  is  not  that  the 
chance  of  victory }  Is  it  not  the  condition  and 
opportunity  of  conquering  }  Yours  is  the  place 
which  God's  heroes  covet;  the  stuff  of  which 
heaven's  songs  are  made  is  there.  "To  him 
that  overcometh  will  I  grant  to  sit  with  Me  in 
My  throne."  There  can  be  no  overcoming  in 
anything  without  effort;  there  can  be  no  con- 
tinued effort  without  weariness. 


THE   STORY  OF   GIDEON.  223 

Yet  it  may  well  be  that  to  not  a  few  my  words 
bring  no  comfort.  *'  My  weariness  is  so  com- 
monplace, it  would  be  worth  something  if  it 
were  heroic  and  sublime,  like  that  of  Gideon's 
and  his  followers."  Yet  theirs  was  common 
enough,  too,  the  want  of  a  night's  rest,  and  the 
want  of  a  breakfast,  that  was  the  commonplace 
side  of  it,  the  common  daily  wants  and  worries, 
common  perplexities,  fears  and  frettings  about 
things  that  it  is  scarcely  worth  putting  into 
words,  nameless  tiredness  of  body,  jadedness 
that  drags  down  all  the  energy  within  us.  But 
think,  was  it  not  of  such  common  things  that 
Jesus  Christ  talked  in  the  great  Sermon  on  the 
Mount,  and  is  it  not  of  them  that  He  saith, 
"  Your  heavenly  Father  careth  for  you." 

As  we  close  the  story  let  us  think  how  very 
much  there  is  to  send  us  on  our  way  with  a  new 
spirit  and  a  new  hope.  Everything  is  for  us. 
Well  may  we  cry  as  girt  with  great  resoluteness, 
*'  Faint ^  yet  piir suing.'" 

Take  two  or  three  texts  and  turn  to  them  for 
your  own  meditation.  Turn  to  Deuteronomy  ii. 
17,  ^^  He  knoweth  thy  walking  through  this  great 
and  terrible  zuilderness.''  "  He  knoweth,"  it 
means  more  than  that.  He  considers  tenderly 
and  sees  to  thy  walking.  It  is  a  blessed  way 
when  God  watches ;  it  is  a  right  way  when  God 


224  THE   STORY   OF  GIDEON: 

guides ;  it  is  a  safe  way  when  God  protects. 
Listen  again  to  these  lofty  words  of  Isaiah, 
^^They  that  wait  upon  the  Lord  shall  renew  their 
strength.  They  shall  mojint  up  with  ivings  as 
eagles''  It  is  good  to  fly  like  the  lark,  but  to 
mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles  !  "  They  shall 
run  and  not  be  weary,  they  shall  walk  and  not 
faint"  Let  God  come  into  the  life,  and  this  is 
ours.  It  is  the  majesty  of  strength  to  fly  like 
an  eagle  ;  it  is  a  fresh,  young,  elastic  energy, 
to  run  and  not  be  weary.  But  sweetest  and 
best  of  all,  it  is  easy  and  glad  walking  when  we 
go  hand  in  hand  with  Him. 

Listen  to  the  words  in  the  twelfth  of  Hebrews, 
and  the  third  verse,  "  Consider  Him  that  endured 
such  contradiction  of  sinners  against  Himself, 
lest  ye  be  wearied  and  faint  in  your  minds." 
The  blessed  brotherliness  of  Jesus  Christ,  the 
sweet  and  gracious  sympathy,  that  constraining 
love  is  an  unfailing  spring  of  energy. 

And,  lastly,  think  of  that  name  by  which  the 
Lord  Jesus  teaches  us  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  He 
who  comes  to  reveal  the  FatJier^  He  who  is 
Himself  our  Brother.  He  to  His  sorrowing 
disciples  pledges  the  gift  of  the  Comforter. 
Have  you  ever  broken  the  word  up.?  Co-fort: 
To  strengthen  by  company. 


XVI. 
THE   DAILY  BREAD. 

"Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread."  —  Si.  Matt.  vi.  ii. 

These  words  teach  us  the  true  idea  of  prayer. 
It  is  first  of  all  asking  God  for  the  supply  of 
our  needs.  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven, 
give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread  "  —  means  what 
it  says.  We  are  to  come  to  God  and  ask  for 
the  supply  of  our  commonest  wants.  Prayer  is 
not  to  be  so  sublime  that  it  forgets  that  we  are 
men  and  women,  having  bodies  as  well  as  souls 

—  bodies  which  God  cares  for  and  which  He 
would  have  us  care  for  too.  But  prayer  is  not 
only  asking  God  for  things.  It  is  more,  much 
more  than  that.  It  is  the  process  by  which  we 
are  put  into  the  right  relation  toivards  all  about 
lis.  ''Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven;  hal- 
lowed be  Thy  name,  Thy  kingdom  come,  Thy 
will  be  done  in  earth  as  it  is  done  in  heaven  " 

—  these  words  do  set  us  in  the  right  attitude 
and    relation   to    God.      Then  comes   the   next 

Q  225 


226  THE  DAILY  BREAD. 

petition,  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread — 
thus  we  are  set  in  the  right  relation  towards 
God's  gifts. 

There  is  much  need  to  dwell  upon  this,  for 
religion  is  but  life  in  its  relation  to  all.  Dirt 
has  been  wisely  called  "good  matter  in  the 
wrong  place."  So  sin  is  but  the  ill  use  of  good 
things.  Every  creature  of  God  is  in  itself  good, 
but  we  make  it  evil  by  wrongful  possession  or 
by  wrongful  use.  Mercies  are  not  mercies  but 
curses  if  we  put  them  in  the  wrong  place. 
And  there  is  only  one  way  in  which  we  can 
put  the  world  in  its  right  place,  and  that  is  by 
putting  God  in  His  right  place.  Have  you 
noticed  that  the  angels  in  Jacob's  vision  first 
ascended  and  then  descended }  At  first  the 
order  seems  unnatural.  Are  they  not  ever  in 
His  presence,  hearkening  unto  the  voice  of  His 
word }  But  as  we  look  at  it  we  see  that  this  is 
ever  the  right  order  for  them  as  for  us.  They 
must  ascend  if  they  would  rightly  descend.  We 
must  go  up  to  God  if  we  would  rightly  come 
down  to  earth. 

Now,  in  this  matter  of  the  daily  bread  there 
are  four  ways  in  which  men  may  get  wrong 
—  negligence^  anxiety y  pride ^  greed — and  from 
each  of  these  this  prayer,  if  rightly  offered,  will 
deliver  us. 


THE  DAILY  BREAD.  22/ 

There  may  be  negligence  in  getting  the  daily 
bread.  I  do  not  know  that  this  is  an  evil  from 
which  men  greatly  suffer  in  these  times.  Where 
indolence  slays  one  over-eagerness  slays  a  hun- 
dred. Yet  so  long  as  human  nature  is  what  it 
is,  this  disease  of  the  bones — laziness  —  will 
never  be  quite  done  away  with.  It  has  some- 
times been  brought  as  a  charge  against  religion 
that  it  is  apt  to  make  men  so  absorbed  in  the 
other  world  that  they  are  unfitted  for  their  work 
in  this.  There  may  be  a  possibility  of  such  a 
thing.  But  notice  how  these  words  deliver  us. 
"  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven  ;  hallowed  be 
Thy  name,  Thy  kingdom  come,  Thy  will  be 
done  in  earth  as  it  is  done  in  heaven."  Was 
any  sublimer  utterance  ever  put  into  the  lips  of 
man  }  They  reach  to  the  loftiest  height ;  they 
go  out  over  all  the  ages,  touching  all  the  forces 
of  the  world.  They  sink  down  deep  into  the 
oppressions  and  miseries  of  the  world.  They 
concern  all  the  vast  interests  of  the  age  —  social, 
political,  intellectual,  religious.  Now  in  the  pres- 
ence of  these  sublimities  it  seems  an  imperti- 
nence to  think  of  our  commonplace  affairs  —  the 
breakfast,  the  dinner,  the  business.  But  this  is 
the  next  petition.  Give  us  this  day  our  daily 
bread.  We  rise  up  to  the  Almighty  Father, 
and  lo,  He  comes  down  with  us  and  teaches  us 


228  THE   DAILY  BREAD. 

that  this  is  the  very  purpose  of  the  daily  bread. 
It  is  given  that  His  name  may  be  hallowed,  that 
His  kingdom  may  come,  that  His  will  may  be 
done.  It  is  through  the  daily  bread  that  these 
great  petitions  are  to  be  fulfilled.  The  man 
who  is  so  taken  up  in  the  things  of  heaven  that 
he  forgets  his  duty  down  here  on  earth  is  a 
hindrance  to  the  coming  of  God's  kingdom. 
He  who  is  so  eager  about  the  next  world  that 
he  is  slipshod  in  his  business,  not  exact  in  his 
doings,  who  is  at  his  prayers  when  he  should 
be  in  his  workshop,  is  a  stumbling  block  to 
everybody.  There  is  nothing  secular  now  since 
the  daily  bread  is  sacred  alike  by  its  origin  and 
by  the  purpose  for  which  it  is  given.  We  are 
to  do  our  business  so  as  to  glorify  our  Father 
Who  is  in  heaven.  We  are  to  get  our  daily 
bread  so  as  to  hallow  His  name. 

The  corn  itself  is  a  parable  on  this  matter. 
The  daily  bread  is  a  product  of  two  worlds  — 
the  happy  combination  of  heaven  and  earth. 
Think  if  the  corn  should  say  —  this  earth  is  low 
and  coarse  and  I  must  have  as  little  to  do  with 
it  as  possible.  It  is  for  me  to  stretch  into  the 
heavens  —  I  must  be  nourished  by  nothing  less 
than  the  sunshine  and  the  dew.  Nay,  heaven 
is  needful  to  its  growth  —  golden  sunshine  and 
soft   shower  —  but   so  are   the   dull   clods.     It 


THE  DAILY  BREAD.  229 

must  take  root  downward  or  it  will  never  stretch 
its  head  upward.  Unless  we  do  learn  to  deal 
rightly  with  earth  we  shall  never  know  how  to 
deal  rightly  with  heaven.  Do  not  climb  up  out 
of  the  world  on  Sunday  as  into  some  holy  atmos- 
phere, and  then  go  sighing  on  Monday  that  the 
dreary  drudgery  has  come  again.  Earth  is  quite 
as  needful  to  us  as  heaven.  We  need  the  work 
of  the  world  —  its  difficulties,  its  temptations,  its 
discipline.  We  are  to  find  in  the  midst  of  all 
this  our  opportunity  for  hallowing  His  name, 
for  the  coming  of  His  kingdom,  for  the  doing 
of  His  will. 

The  next  way  in  which  we  may  get  wrong  about 
the  bread  is  in  anxiety  aboict  it  —  over-eagerness. 
It  is  natural  enough,  and  sometimes  hard  to  be 
otherwise,  but  that  is  all  the  more  reason  that 
we  should  seek  the  cure  which  God  has  provided. 
Dependent  for  our  life  on  the  daily  bread,  unable 
to  control  the  future,  with  many  possibilities  of 
ill  that  threaten  us,  with  lives  about  us  perhaps 
dearer  to  us  than  our  own,  is  it  not  natural  — 
very  natural  —  that  we  should  think  anxiously 
about  the  daily  bread }  And  more  than  natural 
—  is  it  not  a  duty  to  think  much  of  it  .'*  Is  there 
not  a  word  strong  and  stern  from  St.  Paul  that 
he  who  doth  not  provide  for  his  own  house  is 


230  THE  DAILY  BREAD. 

worse  than  an  infidel  ?  Forethought  is  not  fore- 
boding. Care  need  not  be  worry.  There  is  an 
anxiety  which  is  not  sin.  It  is  ^z^^r-anxiety 
against  which  we  have  to  guard  —  the  fearful 
foreboding,  the  care  that  grows  into  the  heart 
and  makes  the  man  unfit  for  labor  and  unfit  for 
life.  Jesus  Christ  taught  us  to  deal  very  ten- 
derly with  this  trouble  of  care.  He  sat  down 
on  the  Mount  and  pointed  to  the  birds  and 
flowers,  and  talked  about  the  children  at  home. 
So  should  we  talk  to  these  anxious  ones.  It  is 
easy  to  hurt  where  we  would  heal,  and  to  bruise 
whilst  we  think  we  are  mollifying  the  wound 
with  ointment.  To  the  man  who  eats  his  last 
crust,  to  the  woman  who  grudges  the  slice  as 
she  cuts  it,  God  knows  how  tenderly  the  word 
must  be  spoken.  Come,  then,  here  is  a  sweet 
message  for  you  :  Yoitr  heavenly  FatJier  careth, 
careth  foi^  yoit  — yottr  heavenly  Father  knozuelh 
that  ye  have  need  of  these  things.  Listen  to 
the  words  of  our  blessed  Master :  *'  When  ye 
pray,  say,  *  Our  Father,  give  ns  this  day  onr  daily 
bread'  "  Our  Father  —  is  it  not  in  itself  a  cure 
for  care  .''  —  speak  it  over  softly  and  lovingly  in 
the  heart.  Onr  Father.  Ah !  father,  mother, 
have  you  not  often  sighed  within  yourself,  ''  I 
should  not  mind  for  myself,  but  there  are  the 
children  "  ?     Yes,  indeed,  there  are  the  children  ; 


THE  DAILY  BREAD.  23 1 

and  therefore  doth  He  bid  us  say,  Our  Father^ 
theirs  as  well  as  yours.  Whence  think  you 
comes  this  very  pity  for  the  children  and  this 
care  for  them,  but  from  the  great  heart  of  our 
Father  in  heaven  ?  And  He  teaches  us  to  pray, 
Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread.  He  is  not  so 
all  taken  up  in  the  spiritual  and  the  sublime 
that  He  forgets  the  lowest  needs  of  our  nature. 
It  is  good  to  pass  through  these  great  petitions 
to  the  simplicity  of  this  lowly  one  —  "  Hallowed 
be  Thy  name.  Thy  kingdom  come,  Thy  will  be 
done  in  earth  as  it  is  done  in  heaven."  It  is  as 
if  I  stood  a  little  child  and  saw  the  great  palace 
of  the  King  of  kings  in  all  its  splendor ;  as  if  I 
stood  amidst  the  ranks  of  seraphim  and  cher- 
ubim, all  waiting  eager  for  their  stately  service, 
as  if  I  looked  forth  over  the  kingdoms  of  the 
world  and  all  the  glory  of  them  ;  and  far  beyond 
there  reached  a  million  worlds  through  which 
His  will  had  sway.  All  is  awful  in  its  greatness, 
overwhelming  in  its  vastness.  What,  then,  am  I 
and  my  little  common  daily  needs !  But  lo,  the 
Almighty  Father  knows  and  takes  His  child  by 
the  hand,  and  leads  me  into  the  banqueting 
chamber,  and  I  am  told  to  look  into  His  face, 
and  ask,  "  Give  me  this  day  my  daily  bread." 
In  the  Father's  house  there  arc  not  only  cher- 
ubim and  seraphim,  and   holy  angels   that   do 


232  THE   DAILY  BREAD. 

excel  in  strength;  there  is  not  only  the  great 
white  throne  spanned  by  the  rainbow.  In  the 
Father's  house  tJiere  is  bread  enousrJi  and  to 
spare.  What  think  you,  troubled  one,  is  not 
this  very  prayer  the  assurance  that  He  knows 
the  need,  and  that  He  has  the  provision  waiting 
for  us  ?  Shall  the  guests  be  invited  and  the 
great  dinner  bell  be  rung  —  and  shall  we  gather 
to  find  the  table  empty  and  the  guests  forgotten  ? 
Do  you  not  remember  the  words  of  the  Lord 
Jesus,  "  What  man  is  there  of  you  whom  if  his 
son  ask  bread  shall  he  give  him  a  stone,  or  if  he 
ask  a  fish  shall  he  give  him  a  serpent  ?  "  What, 
then,  if  the  Father  should  bid  his  son  ask  bread, 
and  when  he  came  for  it  he  should  be  left 
unnoticed  and  forgotten  ?  Never,  never,  never. 
"  Your  heave7ily  Father  careth  for  you.'' 

What  a  wonderful  message  of  care  for  us 
comes  with  the  corn.  It  is  a  living  message 
fresh  from  the  very  heart  of  God.  The  coal  is 
stored  up  for  man's  use  from  the  beginning  of 
the  world.  The  iron  is  there  waiting  man's  dis- 
covery and  labor.  But  the  metal  may  be  worked 
out.  I  have  seen  the  old  engine-house  stand 
roofless  and  ruined,  telling  of  the  mine  exhausted. 
But  right  up  against  it  has  come  the  golden  corn. 
Here  is  no  exhaustion.  Here  is  an  energy  as 
fresh,  here  is  a  gift  as  full  and  rich  as  in  the 


THE  DAILY  BREAD.  233 

first  harvest.  My  brother,  we  knock  at  the 
door  of  a  bountiful  Giver,  by  whom  the  ages 
have  been  fed,  and  there  is  enough  left  for  thee 
and  me.  Fear  not.  The  store  is  not  spent,  that 
cupboard  is  never  empty.  That  bounty  has  not 
ceased.  For  thee  and  me  it  is  true  as  for  any 
that  ever  lived,  ''Your  heavenly  Father  careth 
for  your 

See  again,  the  words  teach  us  that  our  Father  s 
care  about  the  daily  bread  is  constant,  imceasing. 
Every  day  has  as  much  to  do  with  the  harvest 
as  the  reaping  time.  It  is  as  if  our  God  were 
always  thinking  of  us.  The  store  has  but  just 
come  when  the  provision  is  made  for  the  fresh 
supply.  October  rains,  and  November  frosts, 
and  December  snows,  and  the  growing  heat  of 
summer  are  all  leading  up  to  the  harvest.  The 
very  seasons  are  set,  the  world  itself  is  balanced, 
the  sun  shines,  the  winds  blow,  ten  thousand 
mysterious  agencies  are  at  work  that  we  may  be 
fed.  Fear  not.  It  is  the  joy  of  our  bountiful 
Father  to  bless  His  children. 

And  here  again  the  corn  itself  becomes  a 
parable.  Ah,  how  it  preaches  to  us  if  we  have 
but  ears  to  hear.  "  Fear  not,  fear  not,"  it  seems 
to  say ;  "■  I  know  what  He  can  do.  I  lay  in  the 
earth  a  tiny  seed,  and  I  said  to  myself,  *  What 
am  I  going  to  do  down  here,  I  wonder,  so  small 


234  '^^^  DAILY  BREAD. 

and  so  helpless  and  with  so  many  wants  ? '  And 
I  began  to  count  them  up.  '  Let  me  see  —  first 
I  want  a  root — of  course  I  cannot  do  anything 
without  a  root.  And  really  I  don't  see  where 
that  is  to  come  from.  I  have  to  take  hold  of  the 
earth  and  to  draw  my  nourishment  out  of  it. 
And  then  I  want  a  stem.  I  cannot  grow  into 
corn  without  a  stem,  of  course.  And  how  am  I 
to  get  a  stem }  And  here  I  am  in  a  regular 
prison,  all  dark  and  cold.  I  have  heard  about 
the  golden  corn  sporting  with  the  sunshine  and 
the  shade,  and  I  really  cannot  see  how  ever  I  am 
to  get  out  of  this  dungeon.  And  then,  of  course, 
I  must  have  the  sun,  and  how  ever  is  the  sun 
going  to  find  its  way  down  here  }  And,  oh  dear, 
I  am  so  little,  I  shall  be  lost.'  But  then  came  a 
voice  that  spoke  cheerily  to  me,  'Nonsense,  little 
one,  why  dost  thou  talk  so }  He  Who  set  thee 
here  has  fitted  thee  for  thy  place,  and  He  can 
give  thee  root  and  stem  and  golden  grain.  And 
He  will  —  He  will  —  Fear  not.'  Then  I  thought 
I  would  wait  and  see  —  and  it  all  came,  I  don't 
know  how,  but  there  were  the  tiny  roots  that 
began  to  take  hold  of  the  earth,  and  there  was 
the  beginning  of  a  stem  —  and  I  thought  I  should 
be  corn  after  all. 

"  But  I  was  foolish  enough  to  be  frightened 
again.     One  day  I  got  my  head  far  up  enough 


THE  DAILY  BREAD.  235 

to  look  about  me  and  it  was  such  a  great  world 
that  I  was  in,  and  there  were  millions  of  us 
trembling  together ;  I  trembled  too,  and  I  said, 
*  Oh  dear,  I  don't  see  where  we  are  all  to  get 
what  we  want,  so  many  of  us  and  each  so  little 
and  helpless ! '  And  then  I  looked  up  at  the 
sun.  *  And  I  must  have  the  sun,  of  course,'  but 
I  heard  somebody  say  it  was  ninety-five  millions 
of  miles  away ;  '  I  shall  want  a  long  arm  to  reach 
up  all  that  way!  And  there  are  the  clouds 
where  the  rain  is  —  and  I  have  not  a  neck  long 
enough  to  drink  out  of  them,  and,  of  course,  I 
shall  die.*  But  the  voice  spake  cheerily  again. 
'Fear  not,  little  one.  He  Who  brought  thee  so  far 
can  bring  thee  further.  He  Who  gave  the  root 
and  stem  will  give  thee  all  else.'  I  was  so  fool- 
ish to  be  frightened.  Because  I  could  not  get 
up  to  the  sun,  God  sent  a  little  sun-ray  all  the 
way  down  to  me,  all  to  myself,  little  as  I  was,  and 
it  warmed  and  gladdened  my  heart,  and  made  me 
feel  so  strong.  And  because  I  could  not  reach 
to  the  clouds,  He  sent  a  little  drop  just  so  that  I 
could  drink  it,  and  another  and  another.  And 
so  I  came  to  know  what  David  meant  when  he 
said,  the  valleys  are  covered  over  with  corn, 
they  laugh  and  sing." 

Ah,  dear  soul,  surely  thou  mayest  laugh  and 
sing   too.     If   God   so   care   for  the   children's 


236  THE  DAILY  BREAD, 

bread,  shall  He  not  much  more  care  for  the 
children ! 

Then  for  a  moment  or  two  let  us  look  at  the 
two  other  evils  which  may  come  from  the  wrong 
use  of  the  bread.  There  may  be  pride  in  the 
possession  of  it.  "  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods 
laid  up.  How  great  and  safe  art  thou  !  "  But 
this  petition  smiles  at  our  pride.  Give  tis  this 
day  our  daily  bread.  We  say  we  are  rich  and 
increased  in  goods  and  in  need  of  nothing.  We 
think  we  are  great  and  can  command  the  mar- 
kets of  the  world.  We  boast  of  our  skill  and 
knowledge,  that  we  understand  all  the  mysteries 
of  nature.  And  yet  we  have  to  knock  at  the 
door  of  the  Father's  house  for  a  crust  of  bread. 
His  sunshine  and  His  rain  must  enrich  us,  or  we 
starve.  Paupers,  my  dear  sir,  really  ought  not 
to  be  proud,  nor  to  speak  so  haughtily.  Ah, 
stay,  my  friend,  stay.  Did  you  look  down  upon 
that  man  with  a  kind  of  contempt  —  a  sort  of 
inferior  clay  ?  You  really  ought  to  apologize  to 
him.  Do  you  know  that  you  owe  your  daily 
bread  to  that  man's  Father  !  Our  Father  —  we 
are  members  of  a  great  family,  and  our  common 
need  and  common  supply  of  the  daily  bread 
ought  to  bind  us  into  a  true  brotherhood. 

And  is  not  this  enough  to  smite  our  pride ! 
No  man  is  rich  enough  to  pay  his  bread  bill. 


THE  DAILY  BREAD,  237 

How  much  owest  thou  for  the  loaf  of  bread  ? 
Sit  down  quietly  and  see,  friend,  if  thou  canst 
add  it  up.  Shall  we  go  back  to  the  beginning 
of  the  world  —  that  is  nearly  six  thousand  years. 
Well,  it  is  because  for  six  thousand  years  some 
man  has  gone  forth  every  year  with  the  plough 
and  turned  the  furrow;  because  some  hand 
every  year  has  flung  the  seed  corn ;  because  for 
six  thousand  years  some  have  gone  forth  every 
year  to  reap  the  corn  and  care  for  it,  that  you 
to-day  have  got  your  crust.  Every  mouthful  of 
bread  ought  to  check  our  pride  ;  every  loaf  of 
bread  leaves  us  debtor  to  a  host  of  toilers. 

And  the  other  evil  to  which  we  have  referred 
is  greed.  Let  it  suffice  to  listen  to  the  parable 
of  the  corn  once  more. 

How  that  the  corn  lay  once  in  the  granary, 
and  it  said  within  itself,  lazily,  "  How  delightful 
it  is  to  lie  here.  I  can't  think,  for  my  part,  how 
the  corn  can  ever  like  to  get  into  the  fields,  and 
to  be  buried  in  the  earth.  Such  a  vulgar  taste, 
to  care  for  clods  and  that  sort  of  thing.  I  hear 
the  winter  winds  howl  and  the  wild  rain  sweep, 
and  it  is  so  pleasant  to  lie  here  safe,  sheltered, 
and  snug."  And  then  it  slept  a  long  sleep, 
waking  up  and  yawning,  and  going  to  sleep 
again,  which  was  all  it  had  to  do.     But  alas! 


238  THE  DAILY  BREAD. 

the  rats  and  mice  were  busy  about  it,  and  the 
weasels  made  havoc  amidst  it,  and  the  mildew 
got  in,  and  it  began  to  grow  mouldy  and  useless. 
And  at  last  it  was  swept  out  and  burned.  So 
we  may  live.  And  so  is  it  that  he  who  saveth 
his  life  shall  lose  it. 

But  elsewhere  the  corn  said,  "  No,  no  :  I  am 
not  to  lie  in  a  granary,  but  my  work  is  to  bless 
the  world,  to  help  to  feed  the  hungry  children, 
and  to  gladden  the  hearts  of  men,  and  to  make 
them  strong  for  noble  service."  And  it  gave 
itself  up  to  the  sower,  and  went  down  in  the 
dark  earth,  and  braved  the  storms  and  winter's 
frost,  and  rose  up  in  new  beauty,  increased  and 
blest  a  hundredfold,  and  made  glad  the  heart, 
and  cheered  the  home,  and  blest  the  people,  and 
woke  the  hymns  of  praise.  So  is  it.  We  can 
give  ourselves  to  Him  Who  soweth  the  good 
seed,  and  for  us  some  heart  shall  be  brighter, 
some  life  be  gladdened,  and  some  song  be  stirred 
that  else  had  not  been  heard  in  earth  or  heaven, 
—  for  he  that  loseth  his  life  shall  find  it. 


XVII. 
WITH    BOTH    HANDS. 

"With  both  hands  earnestly."  —  Micah  vii.  3. 

The  prophet  thinks  of  himself  as  standing  in 
some  garden  in  the  later  autumn.  We  feel  the 
chillness  of  the  deserted  place.  The  paths  are 
strewn  with  dead  leaves.  The  trees  stretch  up 
their  bare,  black  arms  to  the  cloudy  heavens, 
and  the  winds  come  moaning  through  the  place. 
In  vain  the  prophet  turns  to  the  trailing  vine 
for  any  lingering  bunch  of  grapes :  in  vain  he 
searches  the  fig  tree  for  any  fruit.  But  in  upon 
the  silence  of  the  desolate  garden  comes  the 
roar  of  the  great  city,  now  and  then  broken 
with  shout  and  cry. 

Such  is  the  scene.  The  garden  of  the  Lord 
is  deserted,  whilst  the  city  is  all  eager,  full  of 
greed  and  grasping.  And  that  was  2600  years 
ago !  Has  time  stood  still  .'*  Alas !  how  true 
is  the  picture  in  every  line  of  it  of  the  Church 
and  the  world  to-day. 

239 


240  WITH  BOTH  HANDS. 

With  both  hands  earnestly.  That  is  how  men 
live  in  the  world  for  themselves,  —  for  gain,  for 
position,  for  pleasure.  There  is  the  rush  and 
the  roar :  no  hour  too  early  or  too  late ;  no  ex- 
penditure begrudged ;  no  enterprise  too  vast ; 
as  if  never  wearied,  night  must  flare  into  day. 
Everything  that  can  minister  to  men's  impor- 
tance or  enjoyment  must  be  secured  at  all 
hazards,  and  at  any  cost.  The  world  must  be 
ransacked  for  treasures ;  land  and  sea  must 
yield  their  charms. 

And  amidst  all  this,  the  Church  so  often  is 
like  the  desolate  garden ;  a  thing  of  dead  leaves 
and  rotting  stalks,  without  fruit  or  flower.  And, 
as  the  Blessed  Lord  comes  to  walk  as  of  old  in 
the  garden  that  He  planted,  and  to  talk  with 
His  child,  how  often  is  it  that  there  is  for 
Him  no  rich  cluster.  That  cruel  thirst  of  Cal- 
vary can  only  be  assuaged  by  the  fruits  that 
we  grow  for  Him.  From  His  lips  the  words 
come  with  an  entreaty  of  appeal,  "  My  soul  de- 
sireth  the  first  ripe  fruit."  What  if  the  place 
be  lonely  at  His  coming,  with  no  glad  re- 
sponse, no  happy  communion ;  what  if  all  be 
desolate  or  barren,  a  place  of  dead  leaves  only 
and  barren  trees  1 

The  words  suggest  the  contrast  betweejt  the 
energy  of  vten  for  themselves   and  our  energy 


WITH  BOTH  HANDS.  24 1 

for  Christ.  How  horrible  and  hideous  the  con- 
trast is  !  It  appears  in  one  single  item  of  our 
national  expenditure.  Here,  in  this  Christian 
England,  we  spend  nearly  one  hundred  and 
forty  millions  of  money  upon  intoxicating  drink, 
and  we  spend  less  than  two  millions  of  money 
upon  the  work  of  the  world's  evangelization. 
It  is  as  if  Christ  had  never  come :  as  if  the 
voice  had  never  sounded  through  the  ages,  "Go 
ye  and  teach  all  nations,  baptizing  them  in  the 
name  of  the  Father  and  of  the  Son  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost." 

Almost  every  man  you  meet  shall  spend  six- 
pence or  a  shilling  a  day  in  every  day  of  the 
week  upon  some  luxury  for  himself  without  any 
twinge  of  conscience;  and  then  satisfy  himself 
with  a  penny  for  the  collection  at  the  church ; 
would  think  himself  generous  if  he  gave  a  six- 
penny bit ; — really  noble  if  it  were  a  shilling,  and 
would  scarcely  survive  the  fact  of  giving  half-a- 
crown  all  at  once  for  some  good  work ! 

Money  seems  always  forthcoming  for  pala- 
tial residences  and  hotels  and  restaurants  and 
theatres,  and  their  enormous  cost  is  easily  sus- 
tained, whilst  the  orphanages  and  hospitals  and 
great  charities  of  the  land  are  compelled  to  make 
the  most  piteous  appeals  for  help. 

I    suppose   there   are   tens   of   thousands   of 


242  WITH  BOTH  HANDS. 

pounds  that  change  hands  over  every  great  horse 
race,  whilst  we  have  to  plead  and  beg  to  get  a  pal- 
try thousand  for  the  relief  of  the  poor  and  hungry. 
If  we  could  expect  to  find  anywhere  a  life  of 
tremendous  earnestness,  it  surely  should  be  in 
those  who  profess  to  be  Christians  —  those  who 
have  had  the  light  of  God  and  eternity  and  the 
Judgment  flashed  in  upon  them.  The  shining 
of  the  sun  puts  out  the  fire  on  the  hearth.  Why 
does  not  this  fierce  light  that  beats  from  the 
throne  of  God  put  out  the  fire  of  our  selfish- 
ness.'' If  any  obligation  could  demand  the  utmost 
surrender  of  the  life  in  love  and  service,  it  must 
be  as  nowhere  else  in  the  claims  of  that  Blessed 
Saviour  Who  loved  us  and  gave  Himself  for  us.  If 
anything  could  loose  the  cruel  grip  of  the  world, 
it  surely  ought  to  be  in  the  force  of  His  example, 
''  Who  was  rich,  and  for  our  sakes  became  poor, 
that  we  through  His  poverty  might  be  made 
rich."  If  anything  could  kindle  and  sustain  a 
white  heat  of  enthusiasm,  it  surely  should  be 
the  remembrance  of  how  that  for  us  "  He  made 
Himself  of  no  reputation,  and  humbled  Himself 
to  death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross,"  to  redeem 
our  lives  from  destruction,  and  to  lift  us  into  His 
own  likeness.  Alas,  how  faint,  how  dim,  how 
poor  must  be  all  our  thought  and  sense  of  the 
crucified  Lord,  that  we  put  our  own  ease  before 


WITH  BOTH  HANDS.  243 

His  service,  and  our  own  comfort  before  His 
glory !  Alas,  that  a  thousand  things  of  earth 
should  be  more  to  us  than  His  great  love.  Let 
us  bow  with  shame  and  amazement  at  such  black 
and  base  ingratitude. 

The  world  about  us  condemns  us.  Look  at  it. 
By  day,  in  the  City,  a  vast  host  eager  for  gain : 
by  night,  in  the  West  End,  another  host  as 
eager  for  pleasure.  And  we  who  bear  the  name 
of  Jesus  Christ,  and  who  are  entrusted  with  His 
glory,  often  without  any  passionate  devotion, 
half-hearted  and  dull.  Everywhere  about  us, 
men  at  work  with  both  hands  earnestly,  and  we 
so  many  of  us  asleep.  God  in  His  mercy  wake 
us  up,  even  though  it  be  by  an  earthquake,  as 
He  woke  the  jailer  of  old. 

"With  both  hands  earnestly."  The  words 
suggest  those  who  have  got  no  hands  at  all.  It 
is  true  of  many,  very  many,  it  is  the  hard  stern 
truth  to  say  it  of  most  Christian  men  and 
women  in  the  world,  for  themselves  they  are  at 
it  with  both  hands  earnestly,  but  for  God  they 
have  no  hands  at  all.  Most  Christians  seem  to 
take  it  for  granted  that  there  is  no  need  for 
them  to  do  anything;  they  go  to  church  and 
join  in  the  services,  and  have  a  creed  and  give 
to  collections  :  what  more  is  there } 


244  WITH  BOTH  HANDS. 

I  was  casting  about  for  an  illustration  that 
should  sum  up  what  I  meant  in  a  kind  of  para- 
ble, and  I  think  I  found  it  in  the  chrysalis.  You 
know  the  caterpillar  crawls  about  the  cabbage 
leaves,  often  with  sad  proofs  of  his  mischief.  But 
later  there  comes  a  change  in  his  life ;  he  gives 
up  his  crawling  and  devouring  ways,  turns  over 
a  new  leaf  as  we  may  say :  crawls  up  the  church 
door.  I  have  often  seen  him  there  lodged  in  a 
convenient  crevice.  From  his  new  position  I 
daresay  he  looks  down  upon  his  low  and  de- 
graded past  with  a  proud  contempt.  "  I  am  no 
more  what  I  was,"  he  says  complacently.  "  I 
have  got  much  above  all  that,"  and  then,  hidden 
in  the  crevice  of  the  church  porch,  he  goes  to 
sleep  a  chrysalis.  You  see  he  gets  a  new  name, 
and  there  is  so  much  in  a  new  name.  His  old 
name,  some  tell  us,  was  by  no  means  a  good 
one  —  the  food-robber;  but  now  he  is  a  chrysa- 
lis, and  that  means  something  golden.  Proud 
of  his  new  position  and  his  new  name,  he  goes 
to  sleep  and  dreams  of  the  happy  time  when  he 
shall  fly. 

Alas !  it  is  the  very  living  picture  of  very, 
very  many.  Their  religion  consists  of  a  certain 
turn,  a  certain  uplifting  at  some  time  in  their 
lives  —  a  new  name,  a  new  position,  in  the 
church    porch    perhaps  —  and   then    to    sleep. 


WITH  BOTH  HANDS.  245 

waiting  as  they  say  until  they  shall  "  clap  their 
glad  wings  and  tower  away  to  realms  of  ever- 
lasting day."  Their  religion  is  a  memory  of 
what  was,  and  a  hope  of  what  will  be,  with  a 
long  sleep  between. 

And  that  is  not  all.  Bad  as  it  is,  that  is  per- 
haps not  the  worst.  Of  old  it  was  said,  "  There 
was  a  man  there  which  had  a  withered  hand," 
but  of  many  places  to-day  it  may  be  said, 
*'  There  was  a  man  there  with  two  withered 
hands." 

In  our  great  cities,  swarming  as  they  do  with 
those  from  the  country,  what  hosts  there  are 
who  once  were  the  happy  servants  of  the  King 
of  Heaven  —  at  work  for  Him  ''with  both  hands 
earnestly."  They  look  back,  perhaps  from  a 
better  social  position,  with  envy  to  those  happy 
times,  for  there  is  no  happiness  like  the  happi- 
ness of  service.  We  are  made  so  that  we  can 
find  our  only  true  happiness  in  serving  others. 
We  must  go  out  of  ourselves  to  get  possession 
of  ourselves,  as  the  clapper  gives  the  bell  its 
tones,  and  the  bow  gives  the  violin  its  music. 

A  contribution  to  the  funds  of  the  church  is 

a   poor    substitute    for   the   gladness   that   was 

theirs  of  old ;  the  hands  withered,  not  for  one's 

self,  not  for  business,  not  for  pleasure,  but  only 

for  Gody  and  only  for  any  real  helpfulness  to 


246  WITH  BOTH  HANDS. 

others.  Both  hands  at  work  everywhere  else, 
but  only  here  a  man  with  both  hands  withered. 

Such  men  actually  pride  themselves,  ''You 
see,  if  I  don't  do  any  good  in  the  world,  I  don't 
do  any  harm."  No  word  can  speak  a  severer 
condemnation  of  one's  self  than  that.  Not  to 
do  good  is  to  do  harm.  See  how  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  put  the  question  to  the  Pharisees, 
"  Is  it  lawful  on  the  Sabbath  day  to  save  life  or 
to  kill .''  "  There  is  nothing  between  these  two. 
Not  to  save  the  life  that  one  could  save  is 
murder. 

To  be  indifferent  when  a  helping  hand  would 
save  a  good  cause,  is  to  ruin  it.  To  withhold  a 
look  of  sympathy  or  a  word  of  encouragement 
that  would  help  a  man  to  keep  right,  may  be  to 
destroy  him.  To  do  nothing  is  often  the  most 
cowardly  way  of  doing  the  greatest  harm  that 
can  be  done.  "  Curse  ye  Meroz,"  said  the  angel 
of  the  Lord,  "  curse  ye  bitterly  the  inhabitants 
thereof,  because  they  came  not  up  to  the  help 
of  the  Lord,  to  the  help  of  the  Lord,  against  the 
mighty."  That  is  the  doom  of  the  men  who 
have  no  hands  for  God. 

The  time  will  not  allow  us  to  speak  of  other 
classes  that  are  suggested  by  the  text  —  the  left- 
handed  men,  who  are  both-handed  for  them- 
selves, but  left-handed  only  for  God.     Every- 


WITH  BOTH  HANDS.  247 

thing  they  do  here  is  half  done,  ill  done,  undone. 
Nothing  but  the  very  best  can  satisfy  them  any- 
where else.  No  trouble  is  spared,  no  effort 
begrudged ;  but  in  work  for  God,  content  to  be 
awkward,  counting  it  ever  weariness,  bungling 
over  it,  hindering  almost  more  than  helping. 
Angry  if  they  are  not  asked  to  do  it,  and  spoil- 
ing it  when  they  do.  They  bring  to  the  altar 
that  which  is  torn  and  lame  and  blind.  Some- 
times indeed  they  take  anybody's  poor  little  ewe 
lamb  to  save  their  own  flocks  and  herds. 

But  we  must  make  haste  and  turn  to  the 
brighter  side  of  the  picture. 

"With  both  hands  earnestly."  Hereto-day, 
in  the  presence  of  God,  let  us  think  of  the  great 
conflict  that  is  ever  raging  between  good  and 
evil,  between  God  and  sin.  It  is  within  us ;  it 
is  about  us ;  it  is  in  the  streets,  in  the  busi- 
ness, in  the  social  life.  Nothing  will  do  in 
this  conflict  but  that  we  fight  against  it  "with 
both  hands  earnestly."  And  to  fight  does  not 
mean  just  to  think  about  it,  or  to  sigh  over 
it.  It  means  that  we  fling  ourselves  with  all 
our  might  into  the  fray  and  risk  everything  on 
the  issue. 

And  if  we  are  Christ's  soldiers  and  servants, 
it  is  a  shame,  a  miserable   shame,  to  be  half- 


248  WITH  BOTH  HANDS.  \ 

hearted  and  feeble  in  this  conflict.     The  charge  j 

rings,  "Ye  that  love  the  Lord,  hate  evil."     Thus  ' 
was  it  that  our  redemption  was  won  "  with  both 
hands  earnestly." 

Do  you  remember  that  it  is  written,  "He  laid  j 

His  hands  upon  every  one  of  them  and  healed  ! 

them  }  "     He  might  have  stood  in  the  gateway  1 

of  the  city :  the  soft  light  of  the  setting  sun  ■ 
falHng  upon  Him  and  breathing  His  benedic- 
tion.    It  might  have  been  enough  to  speak  the 
word,  "  Be  whole."     So  would  it  have  been  if 

the   story  had   been   of   human   invention.     It  \ 

were  much  more  in  keeping  with  the  majesty  of  j 

the  Creator  and  the  greatness  of  the  Redeemer,  \ 

it  had  saved    Him  so    much  trouble   and  toil.  \ 
But  His  pitiful  love  must  come  and  tenderly  lay 

His  hands  upon  every  one  of  them,  speaking  i 

the  gracious  word  to  each.  I 

Pictures  of  the  Saviour  often  represent  Him  ' 

as  holding  up  two  fingers,  but  that  is  not  how  i 

He  blesses  men.     Of  the  little  children  we  read  I 

that  He  took  them  up  in  His  arms,  laid   His  j 
hands  upon  them  and  blessed  them.     And  for 
us  men  and  for  our  salvation,  those  hands  were 

stretched  upon  the   cross.     For  ever   there   is  I 
graven  upon  them  the   marks  of  that  agony, 

and  for  such  a  Lord  and  such  a  Leader,  it  were  j 

a  shame  indeed  to  be  half-hearted.  I 


WITH  BOTH  HANDS.  249 

Let  US  earnestly  and  solemnly  surrender  our- 
selves afresh  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  for  ser- 
vice. We  cannot  afford  to  let  the  world  find  in 
gain  or  in  pleasure  a  greater  inspiration  than 
we  can  find  in  our  religion.  We  may  say  what 
we  will,  and  profess  what  we  will,  that  which  we 
live  for  determines  whose  we  are  and  what  we 
are.  "  For  me  to  live  is  Christ,"  cried  St. 
Paul.  As  other  men  live  for  gain  or  pleasure, 
the  Christian  is  meant  to  be  a  man  who  lives 
for  Christ. 

Is  there  anything  within  us  that  makes  us 
weak  for  His  great  service }  Anything  of  ill- 
will  that  blights  and  withers  us  .'^  Is  there  any- 
thing that  dims  our  vision  of  the  Saviour  and 
chills  our  love  to  Him  t  Is  there  any  neglect, 
any  sin  of  omission  or  commission  that  is  en- 
feebling us .'' 

To-day,  for  His  sake  and  in  His  strength,  let 
us  have  done  with  it.  Let  us  grasp  Him  as  our 
own  **with  both  hands  earnestly."  For  what 
Christ  is  to  us,  is  exactly  the  measure  of  what 
we  are  to  Him.  Let  us  make  Him  once  again 
our  King  afresh  seated  on  the  throne  of  our 
hearts,  anew  crowned  with  our  love.  We 
will  gladly  submit  to  His  sway,  and  kneeling 
before  Him  we  will  pledge  ourselves  through 
and  through,  always  and  everywhere,  in  every- 


250  WITH  BOTH  HANDS. 

thing  and  before  everybody,  to  be  first  of  all 
and  above  all,  His  faithful  soldiers  and  servants 
whom  He  has  entrusted  with  His  glory. 

**With  both  hands  earnestly,"  means  a  ser- 
vice that  is  perfect  freedom,  not  hard  duty,  but 
a  resistless  constraint  of  love :  a  delight  to  do 
His  will. 

"  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us  "  is  the 
whole  secret  of  true  service. 


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